Happy

So far, 2016 has been pretty good. Decent. Alright. There have been quite a few positives, and I'm cautiously optimistic about most thing. I'm doing okay. I repeat: I am doing okay.

I've had several people ask me if I'm happy. The more its asked, the harder it seems to answer. The short answer is no. But I can't say 'No' out loud because that leads to a whole other set of conversations where I spend a lot of time and energy explaining thing and reassuring people that they don't need to worry or look at me with what I've nicknamed "The Pity Face".

I'm content. I'm not unhappy. I'm keeping my head up. I have a job I like with really super people that is bringing in most of what I need and a side company I'm building up to hopefully make up the rest. I'm marketable and resilient and I have options. A lot of people in Calgary and beyond are not as lucky and I remind myself of that everyday. I have a place to live. I joined a gym and am enjoying that a lot. My pets are healthy and so am I (blood pressure is remarkably low at around 110/60, despite the stress I've had over the last, say two years).

The last few months (especially) have made me question just about every area of my life and then some. Relationships, friendships, dating, career, belief systems, values, my strengths and weaknesses, family - you name it, I've reflected on it. I've noticed what's important to me in almost all these areas has shifted pretty dramatically as has what I will and will not tolerate anymore. I'm different. The past couple of years have really changes a lot about me. It's not good or bad change - it is just different. And I don't think the changing and reflecting is quite over yet. I, along with a lot of people around me, are still in the middle of a big storm. And I'm not sure what things will look like when its all over. Except I'm fairly confident I'll still be in one piece with the Zoo in tow.

Why not "happy'? To me there is a carefree, effortless bliss about happiness. Like feeling the sun on your face on a warm spring day. It's an excitable feeling along with elements of joy and calm. Being happy is also about feeling safe, secure and comfortable.

Right now, there is a lot of uncertainty for me, as well as the people and city around me. It's like a fog. To manage, I am constantly trying to figure out how much I can pack in a day, fight being tired and take care of everything (including the hounds and a major change in schedule and routine for them). I am running numbers in my head all the time and being anally careful about everything I eat, use, spend money and time on etc. I'm trying to pack in as much as I can into every minute of everyday. I'm like Dustin Hoffman in "Rain Man", always calculating something - time, space, numbers, money (although I don't watch Wheel of Fortune). While I am not "on the edge" of the cliff anymore, I know it hasn't moved that far away from where I am standing. I need to keep at things and stay ahead of the game so that I can avoid going back to the edge, if at all possible.

I think people sometimes are baffled when you can't tell them you are "happy" and that things are simply okay or average. It can make some people feel like they need to fix something for you, and others perhaps aren't comfortable because it's a bit messy, less easy. In my youth I probably would have catered to their discomfort a bit more and would choose language that would make them feel more okay ("Things are great, I am great"). Now I'm more of a realist. And I can tell that makes some people unsettled. But whatever - I don't have the time or energy to deal with that.

I do have moments of excitement. I have days where I gleefully turn up a good song in the car and sing my heart out. I am sleeping well - a noted difference from this time last year. I am learning I can get by with a lot less than I thought, and I have definitely learned that my mental health and well being is not worth trading for a high salary, free lunch or anything else. Lately I have found I am more able to "live in the moment", something I've struggled with most of my life. So while I can't rubber stamp "happy" on my life right now, things are better in someways than they've been in awhile. Knock on wood.

Bye Bye 2015

I've been trying to write this all day. I've started. I've stopped. I've started again. I sat and reflected on the year. I cried. Then I laughed. And I got angry. I worried. That my friends, sums up this year in a nutshell. 2015 has been unlike any year I've encountered. I'm so done with it.

There were some good moments - it certainly wasn't all bad. My Mom completed her cancer treatments and so far is in the clear a little over a year after her diagnosis and surgery. That's a huge win and a relief. I also had some random moments of pure happiness. Like staying at a friend's house and while lying in bed, hearing a train in the distance as I listened to the rain on the roof (some of my favourite things and places all happening at once). Or laughing uncontrollably until my sides hurt at a malfunctioning parking door at a Banff hotel. It wasn't that funny. But oh did we laugh. I made a couple of great new friends and reconnected with an old one. I was also on the receiving end of a couple of acts of kindness that seemed to come at just the right time. These and the other highlights of the year (hey I turned 40!) have really helped me get through things.

But for the most part, this year was really tough. Loss was the biggest theme for me in 2015. Sadly and frustratingly, I managed to cover this off in a lot of life’s categories. Some losses were major. Some minor. Put all together it just felt like I was constantly being hit with stuff and couldn’t stop to catch my breath, or really seek shelter. One thing after another. Death (a person and a pet). Major home expenses. Loss of friendships. Job Loss. Twice. Family illness. More than a few encounters with people who completely lacked compassion and kindness when it mattered most. Disappointment. Misunderstanding. Bad dates. Financial stress. A lot of uncertainty. In short, it was an asshole of a year.

People keep telling me next year will be my year. I hope so because quite frankly I'm tired. It actually doesn't have to be "my year". I'd be happy with a moderately better year. I am probably one of the most positive, resilient people out there and 2015 has tested me more than any other. While I do have some good people in my world rooting for me, I'm carrying most of this on my own. And sometimes it's kind of heavy.

I'm excited about 2016. I'm also a little scared. I feel like I'm going into some kind of uncharted territory, a new adventure. I think I'm ready, I know I am capable, but I also know enough to know you are never completely prepared for what comes along the way. I have put my big girl pants on, I have a plan and I'm charging forward. But not before I give 2015 one last kick in the shins for good measure on its way out. 

Perspective

I've been learning a lot this week about perspective and how different mine can be from that of others. In some cases, having a good discussion about the other person's outlook on thing can bring clarity, understanding and acceptance. I may not completely see things their way but I can accept how events made them think and feel, and what they saw as the important issue, and how that may have differed from my initial take on things.

In another case, delving deeper into the other person's view on things has actually caused more confusion, and has made me realize we are further apart on things in life than I thought. Some people are so sure their perspective is the only way of looking at things, that they shut out all the alternatives and feelings of others involved. It's funny, but  dealing with this latter situation, has made me realize I needed to be more aware and open minded about the other person's perspective in the first situation, and that I was in the wrong.

Cryptic right?

It is. In the first situation, I realized that I was making things more about me than they should have been and that in one area, I wasn't being completely truthful in how I viewed events - not with myself or with the other person. A molehill became a mountain because of it and I regret that a lot. I reacted in a way that wasn't in keeping with who I am, or how I treat people and I made it worse by not owning my mistake.

In the second situation, the other party basically did the same thing to me. When confronted with a concern I had with their behaviour and how they were treating me, they insisted all the problems were because of me and couldn't see how they were contributing to the issue, or how they could be doing things differently. They blamed me for how I was feeling. I recognized this and more importantly how it made me feel. While these two situations were not related at all, it opened my eyes to how I could be doing things differently. I've always thought I was pretty good at seeing both sides of a dispute or issue, but I can see now where I'm maybe a little more egocentric in some situations than I should be. A little too black and white. And not empathetic enough.

Lessons, lessons everywhere.

Trust

Trust is a funny thing. It's kind of like a gas tank on a car. We all have one. Some of us cruise around life with it pretty full all the time. Others seem to be running on empty for multiple periods of their lives. A lot of our ability to refill or top up our tanks comes from being able to on one hand, hone our instincts as to who to trust while on the other hand being able to see someone else's perspective, forgive and let go. It also requires us to see everyone as an individual, and not paint people with the same brush as those you may have known before. Not the easiest thing to do at times, but imperative if you ever want to have any kind of meaningful human interaction, and also for you to be able to function at full capacity in the world.

The Internet says trust is believing that the person who is trusted will do what is expected. It starts at the family and grows to others. The development of basic trust is the first state psycho-social development occurring, or failing, during the first two years of life. Success results in feelings of security, trust, and optimism, while failure leads towards an orientation of insecurity and mistrust possibly resulting in attachment disorders.

Assuming you make it past this phase successfully, things can still certainly happen later in life that can make us find it difficult to trust others. Friendships gone wrong, bad co-worker or employer relationships. Bad things sometimes happen to us, and it can take a lot out of our trust supply tank.

This year I got to know a few people who had a hard time trusting. I can empathize; I myself have had periods where I was running low on trust. Some had very good reasons to not trust. One in particular really did. I think he wanted to but just couldn't get beyond the past. It sadly ended up costing us our friendship which I really wish had not happened. But my take-away (there is always a takeaway) is that because of him, I actually learned to trust more and the importance of trusting again. Events of the last couple of years had me doubting a lot of things - my instincts about people, relationships and how to navigate all that stuff. His vulnerability and honesty about trust issues allowed me to feel safe opening up to him and allowed me to start trusting other people and myself more. I also saw the flip-side where a complete inability to trust, even people who were quite loyal and trustworthy (like me),could paralyze a person, limiting opportunity and effectively, happiness. I also learned that only you can top up your own tank -  surrounding yourself with honest, good people helps, but that on its own isn't enough. You are always going to encounter people who aren't truthful, However, by shutting everyone out to protect yourself, you can really miss out on a lot of great people, experiences and opportunities. And nobody wins.

I think this was a big lesson for me this year (there have certainly been a lot of lessons), and one I really needed to go through. I feel like this last year has been an unexpected learning curve, and I'm only somewhere in the middle of it now. There is something to be said for the mid-life crisis myth actually being a thing (and does not necessarily manifest itself only through buying a sports car). Interesting.

What Makes You Happy?

 This is the year quite a few of my friends are also rolling the odometer into the 40s. Most seem to be handling it pretty well (at least on the surface anyway) and are looking forward to what lies ahead in this new, uncharted era of our lives.

I do share that optimism - really. And I'm not overly concerned about the physical aging. Sure, my boobs could be a little more perky and every once in awhile I notice tiny wrinkles that are attempting to set up residence on my face. Otherwise though I think I'm doing relatively well from a physical perspective.

A good friend of mine (who just a couple of weeks ago hit 40) and I have spent a lot of time in the last six months worrying more about turning the big 4-0 in relation to the "happy factor". Are we making the best life choices? Are we doing what we love, or at least something that makes us happy. I think the fact that we are still having this conversation probably indicates that the answer is "no" to all of those questions. We seem to keep looking around wondering "Where am I and how the heck did I get here?"

It's not to say that we are dreadfully unhappy in our lives. We do okay, we have careers that other people look at and think "Well they are doing alright." We have places to live, cars to drive and other nice material things. We have people that we care about and they care about us. We are relatively healthy. But something is missing. Or several things are (maybe). My aforementioned friend summed it up well recently when he said: "I didn't think things would be this hard. But they really are."

I think our (my) problem is that we have lots sight of what makes us happy. Not content, but happy; that excited, passionate, heal-clicking kind of glee. The really good happy stuff that drives you to dream and believe anything is possible. Where you feel like you are contributing and really doing something that matters. I need to find that again. I've had rare, fleeting glimpses in the last few weeks so I think I'm hopefully on the right path to getting there. I need to re-discover what I'm good at, what I love and what I need. And then figure out how to not lose it again.

Is this what a mid-life crisis looks like? I have no idea - I'm new at this.

See You Later, 2014

Here we are. The end of another year. I'm not going to say it was my worst year ever (there have been worse for sure) but this one certainly is not going down as one of the best. It was kind of a year of extremes; I accomplished some things I am pretty proud of, and had some amazing moments. And then on the flip side, there were a lot of craptastic events too. I'd rather focus on the positives (no one wants to come to a pity party anyway) - and there were quite a few.

I became a homeowner. Those of you who knew 30 year old Lauren may know that this was something I wanted to do before I was 40. And look at that - I managed to pull it off. And by myself no less. While it was a stressful experience in a busy market like Calgary, and moving is never awesome, I am really proud of myself for doing it. I love my little house (yes, it suits me) and I like knowing that I have a place for "The Zoo" to live out the rest of their lives.

I had some great travel experiences this year too. I went to Louisiana in the Spring and got to meet, in person, one of my most favourite internet friends of all time and her family. Thankfully, she was not an "attack lesbian", much to the relief of an older person in my life who had been concerned about the internet angle of my trip. Instead, she was just as warm, funny and interesting in real life as she had been in our 6+ years of online friendship. I saw so many sides of Louisiana, from plantations, to New Orleans, to old cemeteries to the bottom of a moonshine jar (never again!). I ate crawfish, gumbo, lots of deep fried goodness and shared a lot of laughs. Good folks for sure - and I know regardless of distance, I have a couple of people in Louisiana who will be lifelong friends.

I took my second trip to NYC. While it didn't start as planned because of a passport blunder on the part of my travelling companion, it was still a wonderful trip. I spent a few days alone in Brooklyn, just exploring (and eating). I did nerdy Lauren things like gleefully visiting the NYC Transit Museum or buying New Yorker stationary/note cards in little bookstores. When my travel friend eventually showed up, we spent days walking around, eating at amazing places, shopping and checking out lots of different neighbourhoods and parks. In an unexpected twist, I barely talk to my travel mate anymore, but the trip still stands as being one of the most fantastic I've had in my life (so far!).

One of the best things that has happened to me is something I've heard happens around this age. No, I didn't become a cougar. Not that thing. I learned to get rid of the negative people in my life or at least minimize their impact on me (because unless you are an assassin, you can't always completely get rid of people). I have a thicker skin, a much better ability to say "yeah...NO" and a greatly reduced capacity for bullshit and drama. I focus my energy on the people who deserve it, not people who demand it. Angry, bitter people who complain all the time? Ain't nobody got time for that.

2014 also saw some old friends I had been less in touch with come back more into the everyday picture for me. The best part about renewing my friendships with them is that they accept me for who I am and think I am great as is. It's liberating to spend time with people who like you "just as you are", that you can be your whole, regular self around. People who don't feel the need to tell you what you should do, how you should act or what you need to change about yourself. It sounds so simple, but this kind of acceptance hasn't been the norm for a lot of my relationship in my life. So it's nice to have a little more of it. And I really appreciate them more now too, as we get older.

If I think back to New Years Eve 2013, spent in Winnipeg in -40 degree weather (I know how to kick off a new year in style!), I never would have anticipated all the ups and downs this year has brought. The changes, the accomplishments, the heartaches, the adventures - most of them weren't even remotely on the radar. It really makes you appreciate how much can happen in a year. I have no idea what 2015 has in store for me but I'm ready to take it for a spin. And to conquer the list, which was really supposed to be the point of this blog, and still is (I will refocus on that, starting tomorrow).

Ready?

My 39th (or 40th?) Christmas Eve

Here we are on Christmas Eve. The dogs are bathed, the house is pretty clean (and not just by my standards either), I have a giant turkey defrosting in the fridge and I'm enjoying a glass of wine by candle light.

I have to admit that a week ago I was starting to doubt my decision to not go home for Christmas. Or my decision to be alone at Christmas. I am not sure which actually. I'd hear a Christmas song and get overly emotional. When people would talk about what they were doing for Christmas, I'd sneak away - partially because it made me sad and partially because I was beginning to get tired of the pity looks I'd get if I said I was hanging out with the dogs over Christmas.

I'm back on track though. It's my last Christmas of my thirties (someone so kindly wrote that in a Christmas card - thank you!). And this is the only one I've spent alone. There are a lot of people who have never had the big family Christmases I've been so fortunate to grow up enjoying. A lot of people haven't had Christmases with fun (and quirky) in-law types either. I've also been able to have several Christmases with a child in the house, in a parent role. I had the opportunity to help make his childhood holiday memories something special. Not everyone gets to do that either and I'm really thankful that I had that chance. Or to have a Christmas, like my special one last year, where I got to spend time with both my amazing adoptive family AND my wonderful birth family, reminding me that I was not only raised by good people, but I come from good people as well.

The last couple of years may have been a bit bumpy for me in spots. But I'm tough. And more importantly I am lucky. Because I have a life that is full of love, opportunity, health and good people. We can never plan how things are going to turn out, and sometimes we need to roll with the punches more than others, or more than we might want to. When we focus on the good in ourselves and the people around us though, we really have everything we need to keep on keeping on.

Merry Christmas and thank you to all my funny, compassionate, supportive and loving family and friends. Even if we are miles apart, I always feel like you are with me.

Giving Tuesday - Kidney Edition

It's "Giving Tuesday", so I cant think of a better thing to talk about than kidney donors.

A few months ago I got an email from a lady named Sarah in the US who had found my blog (the kidney one, not this one). She wanted to reach out as she was in the process of being tested to be a living kidney donor and she wanted to know if she could ask me some questions. We emailed back and forth and eventually became Facebook friends. Yesterday, she donated as part of a six person chain for a lady in Illinois who had been waiting for a kidney since 2008. I exchanged a few messages with her today - she's doing well and is very upbeat. Go Sarah!

Watching Sarah go through the process (from the sidelines, via email and Facebook) really took me back to when I donated. A lot of the initial testing I went through alone, but about a month or two before I donated, I found two people on-line who really helped me cross that finish line in the process. Jody was local and had tested in Calgary to be a non directed donor - her operation ended up being in Saskatoon. The other lady I connected with was Angela. She lived in upstate NY and had also donated anonymously that year. Both of the ladies offered great information that I certainly used before and after the surgery. They definitely made the process better for me because they shared they stuff that doctors don't think of, from personal hygiene tips to what to bring to the hospital. It gave me comfort to know I had two strangers who had been through the experience cheering me on from their corners of the world.

Living donors are a strong willed, determined bunch. We are pretty resilient and roll with things well. Every living donor I have met has a feisty independent streak in them - that's for sure. I truly believe all the donors I know could have donated without the email buddies, Facebook friends and on-line information groups. But the fact that we had access to these wonderful other donors to use as a resource, most of whom became friends as well - I think that made for a richer, more positive experience. It has made me happy that I can pay it forward when people like Sarah have connected with me. When I first signed up for this, I thought I was just giving a kidney. I didn't have a clue that it would become such a big part of my life and bring so many awesome people into my life, even years later.

This time last year, when I told my kidney story on CBC Radio's Definitely Not the Opera (DNTO), I had another lady reach out to talk about kidney donation. She had often thought about donating - when she heard my story it was a catalyst for her to contact her local transplant centre to start the process. We emailed back and forth as she had questions along the way. Yesterday, it occurred to me I hadn't heard from her in awhile so I sent her a note to check in. As it turns out, donating isn't right for her right now. She apologized for wasting my time with so many questions. But here's the thing - it wasn't a waste. She made more of an effort towards donating, or simply even just thinking of helping another person, than many people do in their lifetime. She took the time to educate herself about the process and in turn, shared that knowledge with others in her life. Donating is not for everyone for a variety of reasons and that is okay. The point is she tried and also talked about it - that makes a difference. As a nurse at her centre said, only about 1 and 5 people who go through testing donate - and that includes people who have family members in need.

She ended her email with an interesting and very honest question (which I appreciated):

"Now that you know I'm not doing it.... I am just wondering, do you honestly have no regrets? Or do you just try to stay upbeat to encourage other people? Do you ever worry about the long-term effects? I have really admired your attitude this whole time, and it shows in your blog... but I always wondered, how do you not worry at all?"

I honestly don't have regrets. I know I made the right choice for me. The bulk of the risks are behind me (surgery, complications post surgery) and now all I need to do is focus on staying healthy by eating in moderation, exercising and just taking care of myself they way we all should, regardless of kidney count. The fact is there is a lot about our health we can't control and none of us are guaranteed a long, perfectly healthy life. I do my best to control what I can, where and when I can. I do worry about a lot of things (money, my pets, friends, family, whether or not the cream in my fridge will still be good for my weekend coffee) but to be completely honest, my remaining kidney never makes the list.

I could also not ever regret a decision that has made me more confident, stronger and more aware of who I am and what is important to me. The "kidney thing" as I affectionately call it was a real turning point for me and I wouldn't change that for the world. I have also met so many wonderful people - from surgeons to nurses to donors to recipient and even the "almost donors" - who continue to inspire me everyday. I'm really lucky that I had this opportunity to go  through something like this. I appreciate not everyone does. And I hope I continue to meet new people along the way who are thinking about becoming donors - and that in some small way, I can help them along the way.

Turning 40

When I was 12, my parents (and several of their neighbourhood friends) turned 40. There was a party circuit for about 18 months as they and their friends all hit this milestone, possibly middle aged birthday. “Lordy lordy look who’s 40” buttons were bought. Unfinished basements in the new subdivision we had all moved into a couple of years earlier were turned into themed zones like a tropical oasis or a major league baseball stadium. Forty balloons were delivered to my house for my dad’s birthday – several of which died an untimely death just two minutes as they hit our fabulous 80’s stucco ceiling. Ooops.

Here we are, 27(ish) years later and now the first of the “kids” are starting to hit the same milestone birthday (happy birthday to my stepsister and old friend Aimee). Pardon my French, but where the fuck did the time go? It seems like just a few years ago we were all learning to drive or finally being old enough where our real ID got us into bars. My stepdad has been warning me for at least 15 years that the older you get, the faster time goes. He sure wasn’t kidding.

It’s interesting to compare where our parents were vs. where we are at 40. Most of ours were living in their second or third home. Their kids, as mentioned, were all in their teens or tweens (although that was before “tween” was an actual thing). They were well established in their careers, likely at least 10 or so years the same company. Most of their hand-me-down or starter furniture had been replaced with stuff they actually liked, and it had been paid for with cash. Most of our families had two cars, but the mom’s generally drove much crappier used cars that were almost as old as us kids. They made coffee at home, drank only when they had company over and thought nothing of buying a frozen lasagnas or cheap meat pies for those busy family nights. Oh and they all had been married for over 15 years.

And where are we? Well for starters, a lot of us are on our second or third long term romantic relationship (or single). Most of us aren’t married in the traditional sense. There are not as many offspring with our generation, and we had them much later as a rule.

Almost all of us “kids” own a home, although more of us are in our first home still. Our mortgages are much bigger, even in relative comparison to our larger salaries. Our homes are filled with more or less new furniture, shiny appliances and kitchen gadgets that weren’t even on our

mothers’ radars. A lot of which might be paid off, but was bought with credit because we didn’t want to wait to buy it. And the cars? For those of the kids in a “couple” there isn’t as much of a divide (if any) in the value of the automotive each person is driving.

Professionally we are all doing well. We have a lot more post-secondary education under our belts than most of our parents did. And we’ve probably worked at a half dozen different places so far, with at least a few more in our collective futures. Many of us are making more than our parents did before they retired in the last few years. We start our days with $5 lattes at Starbucks (well at least I do). We try to buy organic when we can or at the very least we read labels before putting most items in our grocery carts. We are told to avoid frozen dinners because they aren’t healthy or the right thing to do for our families. Sometimes we listen.

The 40s held a lot of change for the neighbourhood parents. There were a couple of divorces. Sadly a couple of our parents didn’t make it to 50. It wasn’t all doom and gloom though – they got to see us graduate high school and in some cases even move out! (I am pretty sure that is every parent’s secret or not so secret dream), went on dream trips, remodelled homes and bought cottages. The divorced and widowed ones found new relationships and love again when they weren’t sure it would happen.

I have no idea what the next 10 years will hold for us, just as our parents had no idea what was in store for them. As I learned with my 30s, a lot can change in 10 years. We might be in a different place than our parents were when they turned 40, but I think a lot of the challenges and opportunities for us will be the same over the next decade. I also know there is no slowing down time.

Birthdays, Housewarmings and Friends.

Forgive the fact that I missed one day of writing - too much on the go!

Last night I had a party to celebrate my birthday as well as my housewarming. While I like being social on occasion, having people over to my house has always been a bit stressful for me. So much so that I think I can still count on one hand the number of parties I have had in my adult life.

I am really glad though that I had the party. It was a great evening, much needed after this past week, and it was wonderful to catch up with old and new friends. It was neat to see people from various areas of my Calgary life interacting - everyone just clicked so well, like they had known each other a long time.

Earlier in the week I was feeling a little sorry for myself, and felt like I was kind of alone in the world. But the universe has smacked me in the head enough over the past few days that I realize how foolish I was for thinking I didn't have support. I have so many great people in my life who care about me more than I ever imagined. I am certainly not alone.

Yesterday would have been Dad's 67th birthday. There were so many times when I was a kid and adult that people (including my mom and brother lol) mixed up our birthdays. So it was kind of fitting to celebrate my birthday on his. All this stuff with my Mom has made me think about him a little more lately, even though he's been gone so long. I remember my parents being 39 and the whole gang they and all their friends turning 40 (there was a bit of a party circuit for a couple of years). My Dad didn't know when he was my age that he had less than 10 years left. I sometimes wonder what would have been on his "list" if he made one. Would he have made a list if he did know? I didn't get to know him enough as an adult to answer that but I can try to imagine the sorts of things he might have wanted to see or do.

Tomorrow I will return to the list making and get back on track.