Water Fasting – Healing Journey Day 3

Journal:
Well, after being so tired yesterday, I expected to be as tired today. I didn’t go to sleep until after midnight, so I set four alarms to  make sure I got up this morning. Sadly to say, for whatever reason, I woke up wide awake at 4:00 a.m. Of all the things that could happen, I wake up at 4:00. I didn’t wake up starving nor dying of thirst, but completely was wide awake. It makes no sense to me.

So what did I do at 4:00 in the morning? I decided it was time to consume some water. Sadly, it didn’t come with the fireworks I was expecting. It was good, but I honestly think of could have done dry fasting for another day. However, since I work with students, I don’t want to take the risk of being completely active all day long and not have my body running on anything. So breaking into my water fast is the process I’ve begun.

So what did it actually feel like to drink water again? It puts me in a hesitant state. I’m not sure my body is fully accepting it to be honest. I feel like there is a possibility of running to the washroom at some point and also a possibility of vomiting the water back up. It’s unsettling for sure. My energy is not where I want it to be; it’s not as good as last night, but not as bad as yesterday morning so I began praying early to survive the day.

Thankfully, I did survive the day with only one person commenting on how tired I looked. I also was yawning a lot when she said it, so that was a clue.

I couldn’t drink very much in the morning. In fact, though I had imagined I would be guzzling water throughout the day, I really don’t think my body was ready for too much water. It almost “hurt” my stomach without actually being painful. But around midday, water began to go down easier (6 hours past the initial sip). The feeling in my stomach is gone for the most part though food does sound good. It was a test to go through two snack times and a lunch period sitting with my students while all of them are eating. The smells are what got to me the most. But somehow, I still found it fairly easy to bypass the food they were eating and the emergency stash I have by my desk.

Following school, I had a meeting with a parent. It was a positive meeting and the mother was so wonderful, she even brought me a bag of tomatoes from her garden. Oh, how I would LOVE to eat those tomatoes. But since it will be quite awhile until I will be eating tomatoes, I am looking at options of either buying a dehydrator to dehydrate them or perhaps finding a method of canning. I am sticking with this journey 100% and not willing to skip stages. I’m holding out well.

Once the meeting was over, I came home and took a nap. It felt so good to take a nap though I freaked out when I woke up thinking it was 7:30 in the morning and I was going to be late for work. It took a few minutes to sink in that it was only 7:30 at night and that everything was going to be ok.

It took awhile for me to get up because I was very cold. I am finding that my body is reacting more extremely to temperatures. For example, when my heater is on, even on the lowest setting, I am pretty warm, almost too warm for blankets. But when the heater is off and the basement gets the cool feeling again, I start freezing so much I cannot even fathom getting out from the blankets. I’m having a hard time finding a happy medium at the moment and I’m hoping this will sort itself out.

I did go to the gym today though I was heavily debating whether I should or not, especially after feeling so tired all day. However, I’ve been working out for years, so I figured that I cannot completely stop now. Aside from cardiovascular benefits, I considered the fact that exercise might actually help me feel warm again after feeling cold for awhile. It worked, and I actually was stronger than I though I would by cycling on a stationary bike. My pace was much slower than normal, but I wasn’t about to make this an all-out sweating session, but rather just a health activity.

So now it is the end of the day and I’m in bed, about to go to sleep. I am so looking forward to only two more days of water fasting and finally getting to drink fruit juice on Thursday. I’m hoping that the lemon slices I’ll be adding to my water on Wednesday will give my body a little energy kick with the most minimal of calories but still something compared to nothing.

Review of symptoms:
This morning, my face actually had a sign of improvement: there were no new pimples! Almost every morning I’ve had at least one new one if not several. Perhaps my body has had enough time cycling everything on the inside without having outside substances to deal with that it is able to concentrate on healing my acne. This is good news for me! My energy is lacking; not horribly like yesterday morning, but not as awesome as last night. I was also shaky again this morning and though it is certainly not as bad as yesterday, it is definitely noticeable. Though I wasn’t able to drink much in the morning, it picked up throughout the day. In total, I think I drank about 1.25-1.5L of water today. Much less than expected, but not bad for my body to adjust to. My body is reacting to temperatures in extreme ways and I’m really hoping this will sort itself out. Something I didn’t expect but totally noticed today was that my teeth are whiter! I haven’t done anything special. In fact, I’ve just been using my clay toothpaste. But the yellow tinge they had before starting my fasting is almost completely gone and they are looking pretty white. This is an exciting side effect!

Weight at the end of the day: 185.4 (down .2 lbs from yesterday, a total of 3.6 pounds lost in 48 hours)

Total Calories = 0

Focus Change: From Weight to Health

I’ve almost been vegan for a year. Can you believe it? Time has gone by so quickly, and I don’t regret a second of it! So I thought I’d fill you in on my progress, and something that switched mentally along the way.

When I first went vegan, in the end of June/beginning of July 2015, I went through a week of major withdrawal; not from animal products, but from cheese! My husband ate nachos almost daily, and the smell of melted cheese would be ever so tempting. So how did I combat it? By having a piece of fruit in my hand and shoving it in my mouth… lol. You do what you have to do.

From there, it got easier. However, since I was so excited about this vegan world, I started looking for everything vegan in the grocery stores. I subscribed to a local Organic Box delivery which was the greatest thing because then I was able to select organic produce to be delivered weekly so that I always had fruit and veggies available. But as the fall came, things changed.

In the colder weather, I wanted cooked foods all the time. No problem, really. You can easily be a cooked food vegan. But, with a few complications in starting up my next school year, I started grabbing denser calorie, fast food. This meant hitting much too much of the shelves and freezers in the grocery stores. Not only was I excited that so many things were vegan, but I was able to try so many vegan products. Let’s just say, I was not paying attention to the macronutrient breakdown in any of them. My diet was very high in fat.

Now, I was already mentally transitioning from a person who had heavily counted calories, starved myself to lose weight, and pretty much obsessed with being thin to someone who was just concerned about being healthier for myself and doing what I felt God was calling me to do. That didn’t make it any easier when I found my weight still climbing. I was eating all that I cared for, reaching a state of being full but not being stuffed. I felt pretty well, but I knew the weight gain was not what I wanted. However, I continued on because it was easy to do.

Christmas came, and I was so excited to travel to the states to try some new vegan restaurants. They were AMAZING. But it hit me when my mother-in-law had to ask my husband if she should even bother asking me if I wanted to sort through some clothes of hers before she donated them. That told me right away everyone noticed my weight gain. I started to feel pretty bad.

The following two months presented me with some of the greatest stress I have had in quite awhile. My husband left for school in the states, I moved our entire apartment myself, making appointments to sell items along the way. As soon as things were finally moved, I had to prepare report cards. As soon as that was over, I had to prepare for parent-teacher interviews. Needless to say, I got really sick after that. I literally did not have a single break, and as happy as I was to be leaving our old place, I hit the point of nostalgia as it was emptied and I was doing it alone. Emotional ups and downs, zero rest, and not eating was a recipe for disaster, and a time to hit my highest weight. I knew things had to change.

I was not giving up veganism, that was not an issue. Veganism had made me feel better about pretty much everything. In fact, when I was not reminded about my weight gain, I actually felt amazing. But I knew I could do better.

With my husband in school, and I taking on all of our bills, the money was cinched tight. I had/have a very small budget which meant all those vegan junk foods were few and far between. I actually had to start cooking again! And you know what? I felt even better than before. I found out that my greatest eating pattern is eating raw throughout the day (mostly fruit) and eating a cooked meal in the evening. The cooked meal ranges from pasta to potatoes to veggies and vegan proteins, to vegan sushi, to cream of wheat, to sandwiches. They are not complicated at all, and are whole-food based. I feel vibrant and amazing and have even found a 6-day pattern of attending the gym again. And that’s when it happened: I started caring less about my weight gain.

I knew I was bigger than I wanted to be, but I chose to trust the system. People have been through this before; I’m not the only one. God’s original diet for us was the fruits of the earth, and I was closer than ever to following that diet. I began to pray for God to not only bless my food before I ate it, but to bless my efforts in trying to eat the way He designed for us, and for my results to show to others that this is His design as well. I began to pray before workouts for the same thing. And then I continued to eat when I was hungry and stop when I was full, except this time, it was whole plant foods from home.

You know what? In less than two months, I am down 14 pounds from my heaviest. Did I cut calories at all? No. In fact, I have been logging my food everyday just to see how much I’m eating. Some days, I’m not very hungry and I only eat around 1500 calories. I don’t like to go lower than this, so that does involve an some extra food I probably wouldn’t have otherwise eaten. Some days, I’m super hungry and can eat over 3000 calories. I’m not starving my body anymore. I’m giving it the healthy nutrition it needs, and it’s working.

I’ve always worked out which you’ll see if you have followed this blog for quite awhile, so that has not changed. I’m currently doing 3 full-body circuits a week with 3 cardio sessions between and 1 rest day. I’m getting stronger, and my endurance is better. I absolutely love it.

So I’m continuing on my vegan journey, in love with it greatly. My father has started his own fitness journey and to my surprise, displayed a picture of a blender with raw vegan protein powder. He’s been making banana/protein smoothies. It’s a huge step! My mother has been trying to cut down on the animal consumption within the house, and a coworker of mine has just begun her own vegan journey as well. More and more I’m realizing that people are waking up to the reality of how great a vegan diet is, for health reasons, beliefs, ethical and environmental reasons. It is truly the greatest. And though weight loss is awesome, it beats nothing to knowing your body is healthy and going to last you a little longer. When you eat healthy, the body releases the fat that is not good. It’s a slow process, and already within the two months, I’ve had over a week of being stalled on the exact same weight. But I continued nonetheless, and it paid off with a lower weight break in the end. So take courage. If I can do this, you can too. Start researching and be awakened to the world of truth that is out there. It’s truly amazing how deceiving the world is. Get to the nitty gritty and find out for yourself; the only regret you’ll have is that you didn’t do it sooner.

Brutal Reality

I came across a picture not that long ago that clearly struck me as truth in a reality-awakening sense. This was the picture:

Yes, this is a strong picture. No, it is not something we would want to look at. But the very controversy of these pictures explains the reality that most people don’t understand.

Growing up, I knew I hated seal clubbing. It’s a brutal, beat-them-until-they-die way of getting some seal skin to make clothing for humans. It’s terrible. Imagine yourself, as the picture portrays, being beaten to death so you can be skinned and worn. It’s so unnecessary. We have so many clothing options and yet people prefer to pay a high price for brutality. Useless.

Growing up, I also knew I didn’t like trophy hunting. Trophy hunting is where the animal isn’t killed for its meat, but simply for its skin, a picture, and a trophy. Imagine if we were hunted for a trophy. Our lives a waste just to end up on somebody’s wall. A father or mother torn apart from their family, their friends, their herd just so you can kill them, stuff them, and put them up for your pleasure. Awful.

Growing up, it made me sick to think about bullfighting. What humans enjoy watching animals be injured, suffer and be killed for fun? It’s such a brutal, painful, slow death I could never stand the thought of it. And people enjoy this!! It used to make me so mad as a kid. So as the picture describes, imagine that everyone came to watch you die a slow and painful death. And just when you were on the brink of barely having a reason to live anymore, confused as to why these people would cause you so much harm, they finish you off. The last moments of the animal’s life was the cruelest it could have ever imagined. And humans enjoy this. Disgusting.

The one thing I didn’t connect growing up was the very fact of wearing fur. Of course fur is beautiful… it’s gorgeous! But it isn’t ours. And yes, you may think that the animal is killed for other reasons and then the skin has to be used, but that’s not how it is. Most of the animals who are trapped for their skins aren’t even dead when they are skinned. Meaning they are fully conscious of the skin being ripped of their very bodies all so you can wear something “fashionable”. I know there were some natives (in history) who used to scalp people. Go ask them how that turned out. The thing is, you won’t be able to because they’re dead. Just as humans can’t live without their skin, neither can animals. Instead, humans don’t care about the animals and gladly wear their bodies, their brutal death around. Terrible.

The thing is, humanity has become so blind. And though it’s not entirely our fault, a large portion of it is. The meat industry, dairy industry, egg industry, fish industry, fashion industry and entertainment industries have caused us to think so blindly. They regularly lie and hide things they don’t want you to know. But it’s on our part to do the research, to investigate what really happens. The Internet is huge. Documentaries are everywhere. What excuse do you have?

From now on, before you make the choice to buy (or not buy) animal products, do your research. I can honestly tell you the safest bet is to avoid all animal products. By avoiding all of them, you can ensure you are not contributing to the cruelty. If you already have these products, it’s up to you to decide what to do. The damage has been done and you can’t take it back. But you can decide who your future dollars are going to fund. It comes down to one simple choice: Will you pay for the cruelty to continue, or will you pay for the humane choices to thrive? Every dollar being avoided towards cruelty is another step in showing those industries we don’t want their services anymore. What will your decision be?

It’s So Dry, We’re Cracking Up!

Ok, I know the title sounds funny, but it’s true. We are literally cracking up! And no, it’s not because we think the dry climate is funny, it’s actually quite the opposite. Our bodies think it’s awful.

Last week, I woke up one morning feeling awful. I think I wrote about it in another post… but the most awful part was that both sides of my mouth, where the lips bend, were cracked. Let me tell you, that is a terrible place to have cracked! When you open your mouth too far, it hurts! I lathered it with lip moisturizer day and night, and it eventually healed and went away.

Mine are very much like this. Very subtle and small, but very much there. A tiny crack on the side of the mouth.

Well, my husband woke up last week with painful heels. My mother used to get this, I thankfully never did, but my husbands heels had the biggest cracks in them I have ever seen. I’m not just talking long, surface cracks, I’m talking deep heel cracks! I don’t even know how they aren’t bleeding with cracks that deep! So we’ve been lathering them with coconut oil and it has been helping.

These are very much like his. Awful.

Yesterday morning, I woke up with those stupid cracked mouth sides again. I’m telling you, it’s the most annoying thing ever! Unless you drink smoothies out of a straw all day, I really don’t see how you can avoid opening your mouth and causing those little cracks to cause you pain. Looks like we’re in for a very dry winter, and we will have lots of coconut oil and lip moisturizer on hand!

Do you live in a dry climate? How do you handle it?

I Prayed for 10 Years, and God Answered

Sometimes in life, there are things we don’t know how to approach. There are people we want to say things to to, but for some reason can’t find the right words. Sometimes, they can be missed opportunities that are missed out of fear. Sometimes, they are missed because we keep waiting for something or someone else to bring up the topic so that we have an opportunity to put in our heartfelt words that we need to say. Some people unfortunately underestimate the amount of time that is available for some things to be said.

For years I have been trying to get enough courage or find the right moment to talk to my father about God; about my views on God and trying to find out exactly where he’s at. My father believes in God, absolutely. But after learning about how awesome it is to be a child of God, that you can openly talk to God as a friend and call him Father, Papa, or even Daddy if you’d like, it left me in a state of uneasiness seeing my dad only ever refer to Him as things like “The Man Upstairs”. I didn’t get a sense of owning God, of realizing that God loved Him. But how do I bring up such a sensitive topic with my own father? I know, I know. Some of you would say that I should love my father enough to bring it up regardless, but just pause for a moment. This is my father. I care about him more than the average person I would meet and talk about God with. I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want him to ask questions I don’t know the answer to. If I want to talk about it, I want to do it right, and there were not enough rehearsals to ever make me feel prepared.

But God changed that this summer.

Now, I think part of the reason is I had to tell my family I had turned vegan. They were used to me being vegetarian before, so in reality, vegan wasn’t much more of a step. They took the news a lot better this time than they did originally when I turned vegetarian, so I’m assuming I had them “warmed-up” for the big change.

Because I had to tell my family I was vegan, Dad asked me why I made the switch this time. I loved this question! I had the opportunity to tell my dad about the health benefits of being vegan and how much better it is. I didn’t go into incredible details of the effects on animals because my dad wasn’t there yet. But what did surprise me was one of the responses he did give me, which was simply this: “I could probably live without meat. But I guess my thing is I don’t want to. I love my steak.”

Now I know, there are definitely some people in the vegan community who would start criticizing my dad right away. I have heard and seen all the criticisms that could be used against his statement. But just hold on a second, after all, I know my dad better than you.

His statement was honest. He didn’t lie about it, he didn’t make excuses, he told the truth. He even admitted (for the first time ever) that he could probably live without meat! How big of a reality is that! This, coming from a man who literally grew up on the vegetables his mother grew in the garden, and the meat his father hunted in the woods. Even to this day, the family gets together to share moose meat if someone wins their moose license. It’s a way for them to save money and stock up the food supplies for the winter. Remember, New Brunswick’s economy is not huge by any means. And, if you think of it that way, he didn’t even go off listing a whole bunch of meats he couldn’t live without, he said one – steak. Now, I don’t support the killing of animals, I really don’t. But if he could even stop eating all other meats and only have steak once in awhile, that still saves lives! There is room for progress! So anyways, you can feel my excitement and hopefully understand it over that reply.

So I don’t know if it was because he was already asking me why I eat the way I eat or what, but he then asked me a question I have been waiting YEARS to answer, and that was about my faith. Now he didn’t ask an open-ended question such as what I believe, but he kind of asked in a weird way how my beliefs were compared to Catholicism. Now I can’t claim that he was questioning Catholicism, but I can say that he NEVER would have asked me this before. In fact, when I was baptized Seventh-day Adventist, my grandparents (his parents) told me I was playing with religions and that you should stick to the one you were born into. They are very set in following traditions which is also what the Catholic church holds onto, so I always saw my father having the same mindset.

Regardless, he opened up.

I asked him to clarify a little, and he basically asked if my beliefs had Saints like the Catholic church does, or if we pray to Mary, or those kinds of things. Now, imagine my heart bursting wide open at this point. Again, he may not be questioning things about the Catholic church that I don’t believe in, but it almost sounds like he is! So I just say no, and explain that everything we believe comes straight out of the Bible, and that we did have a “prophet” within the last century who passed all the tests as provided by the Bible as to how to recognize a true prophet or not, and though we don’t worship her or praise her, we do use her inspired teachings/writings as a deeper way to understand some of the confusing things in the Bible. After all, the Bible was written by God-inspired people. So it does make sense that somebody could have been chosen to be inspired by God again, which is why they conducted the Bible’s prophet tests on her to make sure she was truly being led by God. And I continued to explain to him that of course the Bible comes first, that we always pray to God, and that we do also believe in the Trinity: God (Father), Jesus (Son), and the Holy Spirit. But I told him (to emphasize the point) that everything we (or at least I) try to believe has to be based in the Bible, as tricky as that can be sometimes.

I’m not sure how my dad took all of that. It definitely wasn’t everything I wanted to say, but it was enough for the situation we were in. I wish I could say my dad said we’d continue the conversation later, but he didn’t. Mind you, we were in a busy situation, but I’m holding onto the fact that I’m praying God used that moment to plant seeds in my dad’s heart and mind. I’m praying that my dad will realize the greater relationship he could have with God than I think he does. I want that so bad for my dad, but as many of us know, if you push things, the person will usually retract. So for now, I’m being thankful God gave me that opportunity after so many years and will continue to pray that maybe Dad will ask me about things again so I can dive a little more into the personal relationship side of things. I’m still in awe that God did this for me, even though it has taken 10 or so years. God does answer prayer, that’s a fact.

So to end on a little extra happy note, my step mother and I have never talked about religion. I don’t really know her religious background… it’s just not usually a subject that is brought up. But even when I was driving around with her doing errands, she brought it up. And our conversation focussed more on whether the school I taught at accepted students of all walks of life, or if they could only be of our religion. We talked about how students from all walks of life do come to my school, but we don’t bend our beliefs based on theirs because they are choosing to pay and come to our school for some reason. She was curious how I taught my Bible classes, and I told her that I do respect the feelings and beliefs of all of my students, but that I’m not going to tell them to be sheep. I don’t just want them to believe things because I tell them to, because at one point, we all question what we believe. I want them to know why they believe what they believe with evidence, straight out of the Bible in black and white. I also told her that if they end up asking me a question about something I don’t know, I don’t ignore it. I either search out the answer myself, or we study it together as a class.

For example, this year my students were not into studying the life of Christ, something they’ve more or less covered since attending church as infants, but they wanted to know about the end times, about the dragon of Revelation, about what to expect. So you know what I did? Tossed my plans, and we started studying Revelation together. It was the most rewarding decision I could have made. Yes, there is some scary stuff in that book, but my students came from that book knowing so much better what to expect, what is going on in our lives, and how God is fighting for them every step of the way, wanting to protect them from every evil that is here and will come. They knew that things might get difficult for them, but that they shouldn’t fear as long as they put God first because ultimately, God is victorious and he is holding them in His hands the whole time.

I mentioned this in another blog, but it still blows my mind that two of my students who do not attend a church and do not come from religious families wrote to me at the end of the study, one saying that he had listened more than he ever thought he would, taking notes more than he ever had before, and the other saying how he’s not baptized (with a sad face) but knowing that he can do anything through the power of Christ and knowing that he can have a personal relationship with God was such good news to him. I mean, how much more powerful does it get than that! The students had questions, and God provided me the opportunity to learn and study with them. What an awesome way to be used by God!

So anyways, I guess if I can sum this up I would say, don’t be impatient. God’s timing is so much better than ours could ever be. And don’t give up. I mean, 10 years was a long time to wait for my opportunity to talk with my dad, but it came from his curiosity and not me preaching at him – 10 years, and God answered my prayer. So know that God does answer prayers. It may not be in the time you want, it may not be quite the answer you want, but God is always listening, and He will answer you.

A Maritime Way of Life

Recently, I have returned from my vacation visiting my family in New Brunswick for almost two weeks. I love returning home. There truly is no place like home. ❤

Going home is so important to me each year because it’s a break away from my daily “big city life”. Home, is a wee bit of redneckville mixed with a slow-paced existence. It’s the perfect combination.

In New Brunswick, it is totally and regularly possible that you may be the only car on the highway at any given time. Let me repeat that: At any time, you may be the only vehicle on the highway. That NEVER happens in the city.

Famous Hartland Covered Bridge. The longest one left standing!

New Brunswick is full of trees and rivers. Not just any trees either. New Brunswick is called the “Picture Province” for a reason: it has the most BEAUTIFUL variety of autumn colours you’ll ever see. And since the forests are everywhere with gorgeous lakes running through the province, the view is breath-taking. One day my mom and I even played “tourist” in our own province because it was such a beautiful day and the scenery along the drive overwhelmed us. It’s amazing when your own province can cause those awe-inspired feelings inside of you. I can tell you certainly the city does not do that for me at all.

In New Brunswick, nobody ever seems in a hurry. I’m sure people may be rushed for appointments or work in the morning, but honestly, you never feel a sense of rushing around. There seems to be so much time, so much laid-backness that you don’t get that crazy time-strapped feeling. Can you imagine life that way? I think it’s definitely something I used to take for granted when I lived there. I would give anything not to feel that way here in the city… the city that never has enough time for all that you need to do. And maybe that’s just the point…

In a smaller province, you don’t see as many people working themselves to death. New Brunswickers know how to have fun and how to get work done in a smaller amount of time. Families have time for families. Now, granted, a lot of people are on welfare because the economy is not the greatest, but even the people who do work still get together in LARGE groups of friends and spend time with their families every day. I can tell you as a big city teacher, this is something I don’t see often.

Now, why did I put LARGE groups of friends above? Well, when you live in smaller places, you know more people, and generally, in smaller places, all of the people get together. If someone’s having a party at their house, feel free to stop in. It’s an open door policy. Everybody knows everybody, and if you don’t know someone, know that you will be going through the stages of figuring out whether you’re to be trusted and accepted in the group or not.

It truly is an open door policy. People have less places to be, and more time to be home. So if you feel like visiting anyone, there is rarely a chance you need to call before going over. In fact, people LOVE when you stop in to visit. All the time I just go over to whoever’s house and knock on the door and never once will you be turned away unless of course someone is busy which of course, as stated above, doesn’t usually happen. And even if they are busy, they will stop to talk. It’s just the way they generally are.

Four-Wheelers (also known as ATVs or Quads) and snowmobiles are accepted methods of transportation and are regularly used. Due to the economy in the Maritimes, New Brunswickers use four-wheelers and snowmobiles as cheap methods of transportation. Most places in the country areas or small towns are accessible by these methods, and thus save on money. Gas is also more expensive in NB so it saves on gas as well. They are also a form of recreation. I basically grew up on a four-wheeler; it was the first real thing I learned how to drive on my own. I LOVED when my entire family would go on day trips. We’d make a stop at the local convenience store for gas and some snacks (all 8 wheelers of us) and then head out for the day. Most of NB’s railways have been dug up, so the trails that are left are super easy to travel on, not to mention the off road trails we’d venture out on. In the city, you don’t even have a chance to do this unless you have a truck to haul your machine outside the city to some acceptable place. In NB, go out into your back yard and begin.

There is rarely a person who will walk by without saying hello to you, nor a car that will drive by without waving at you. The reason for this? Most NBers are just friendly people. Definitely not a city thing…

Snowmobile parking lots truly exist in the winter.

New Brunswickers aren’t worried about the newest and greatest things. They could care less if they owned everything designer or if their house was brand new. In fact, that’s one thing I love about New Brunswick. They maintain houses that are hundreds of years old, some that are still cared for and lived in by families. You don’t get sick of seeing the same house after the same house as you do in the city. You actually get to see real architecture, large mansions of houses from people of old, molded tin ceilings, stained-glass windows, etc… The houses are simply beautiful! And even some houses that aren’t as grand that are 50+ years old are still loved and lived in, in New Brunswick. People (mostly) have respect for items. It’s not a “Oh I’ll just wait until the next one comes out… ” or “I need a new _________ that’s bigger and better.” They simply live for what they can afford and don’t lay around complaining about what they don’t have. I mean, here in the city, people complain, there are massive line-ups for items to come out the next day, people are throwing away perfectly functional items just because they’ve become “outdated”. It’s such a breath of fresh air to go to somewhere that people aren’t completely consumed with consumerism. People know and can appreciate a good find at the DollarStore. People know how to hunt for bargains that will keep them going. Brand new cars? Aside from my mother, my step father and myself, I can’t really tell you anyone else in my family who has ever bought a new car. They always buy used because it’s cheaper and it gets them by. I love the whole mindset. In fact, in this recent trip, my father quoted me this, “I don’t look at things as how long I can afford them; I look at things as how long can I keep them.” Amazing.

It’s so much more family-oriented. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, but it’s rare for a family not to spend regular time together. And I’m not talking just the parents and kids, I mean aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins, etc. Everytime I go home, I spend the majority of my time visiting relatives because that’s who I grew up with and was close to. My great aunts and uncles, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, my parents and siblings, my great grandmothers, everyone. I grew up in a close but large family, and I wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world. From what I gather from most of my students, many of them rarely see their extended family. In fact, it’s usually only for family reunions. I love that I don’t have to wait for a reunion. I just get up and go, knock on the door, and then sit for hours talking. It’s seriously the best.

I’m sure I could keep writing on this topic and all the things I love about the Maritime life. And of course, these won’t apply to everyone. But being born a small-town, Maritime (NB) girl, I still feel this way about my province every time I go home. In fact, my dad commented how I still call NB home, but that’s because it always will be. I love the way of life there and it will always be my breath of fresh air.

The Penalty of Standing Out

I hate the way the world works sometimes. I hate seeing people in pain. I hate watching people getting picked on or bullied. I hate sin and wrong-doings in this world.

When I was going through my university years, completing my education degree, I had a desire to work with special needs children. It wasn’t because I looked forward to the extra work that often comes with special needs children, but because I wanted to make a difference. I knew special needs children were often put down and sometimes stared at as if the were a circus sideshow. I knew I could step up and be the voice of those children, and I knew that I could help those children feel as important as they are. But that’s not what happened.

At first I ended up teaching at a Native School. It took me awhile to learn the different dynamics needed to teach students who come from a history of anger. It was a definite learning curve in understanding the culture, the behaviours, and the thoughts about different things. But one of the things I found is that my classroom was often their safe place. My classroom was the one place they could count on someone being there to love them. I was a safe place for these kids.

Now as much as I loved being in that position, time would have me change again. This time, to a place where I wasn’t such a safe place. These kids did not need me (or at least felt like they didn’t). The attitudes were indifferent, the gratitude was gone. I really struggled at first to see how in the world I could make a difference when my students were convinced they had everything the needed.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t my first year that I figured it out. It was my second and my third that really opened my heart. I realized that maybe I wouldn’t be able to reach all students, even though I try. But there is at least one in each class who needs someone they can trust; someone they can break down their barriers and let them truly see the inside that they keep.

It broke my heart when the first student really let me in their life. The amount of background some of these kids hide is disheartening. It sometimes makes you wonder how they even function. It’s no wonder some of them put up a tough-front at school. Some of them are simply caught in that worldly struggle: the one where they are fighting between being good and doing what they know is right, and doing what the world expects and wants them to do. Absolutely the struggle gets worse as the generations get older. It’s sad in the very least, but it does, unfortunately, exist.

I witnessed something that brought this whole thing up in my mind. A situation that brought up a whole slew of memories.

One of my students is running for class rep in the upcoming school year. She’s an awesome student, wonderful in both academics and her Christianity. Unfortunately, she is one in very few that does not struggle with desires to be popular. She will not swear because others are doing it. She does not talk about inappropriate things because she has no interest. She knows what she believes and she sticks to it. She knows what is right, and that is what she does. And it has made her unpopular in her class.

Today, the vote was completed. And though she almost perfectly fits the description of the position she is running for, more votes were left blank than were voted in favour. My heart sank and my blood boiled a little. If there were legitimately good reasons for not letting her have the position, then I would accept that. But I know it’s because they are upset the one person they wanted to run wasn’t able due to his grades. Whether it’s an expression of bitterness or anger, is it right to decline someone that not only wants the position, but is ready, willing and capable of doing it well?

I don’t know what the right solution is. After all, voting is an expression of your opinion. But my heart aches in knowing that the reasons behind the reactions are wrong. And that bothers me. Someone who perfectly is capable of doing something so well, being held back by unpopularity, is wrong. It takes me right back to my whole philosophy of teaching, and that is that students are capable of more than they are doing, and standing up for those who don’t have as much of a voice.

I grew up in public schools where situations are much worse than I have ever experienced in my years of private school. I have seen “losers” beat up for simply not being good enough for others. I have seen the separation and isolation of those who needed the extra pull-out help and did not think like the others. I have seen students dragged from classrooms because they were acting out in anger about their situations. It’s not pretty.

One year, we did a fundraiser where the boys provided a lunch, and we bid on these “anonymous lunches”. When the bidding was done and every girl had her lunch, then the boys would reveal themselves and we would share lunch with them. I just happened to get one of those classmates that was always taken out for extra help, and who had problems with his anger, reacting from the situations he was in and the way he was treated.

I will forever regret the way I treated him.

I didn’t say anything mean, but that’s simply because I didn’t say anything at all. I was silent the whole time. And now I cannot even go back and apologize for being “snobby” because he was killed in a car accident several years ago (I think I was still in high school). That’s guilt that I have to live with, and guilt that started to change the way I reacted to people.

The one girl that was dragged from our classroom was probably the lowest person in our class. She didn’t always take showers, and she didn’t come from the most well-off family. In fact, I actually don’t know how she was treated at home. But what I do know is that people didn’t like her and daily made fun of her. I will never forget the one day she came up to me and told me that I was her role-model. I didn’t try to be anyone’s role-model, I just tried to talk to her and be nice when others wouldn’t. And look at the difference that made on her life. The simplest of acts I could have done, and it literally changed her world.

Now I’d like to say others followed, but they didn’t. I’d like to say her life changed for the best, but it didn’t. I did manage to get in contact with her again during university, sadly to find out she was pregnant and the baby’s father wanted nothing to do with her as soon as she became pregnant. As a matter of fact, he ran out with another girl and married her very shortly afterwards. And to make matters worse, he called social services claiming she was an unfit mother and had her baby taken away. In no way did her life get better.

I’m sad to say I’ve lost contact with her. My only method of contact no longer seems to work. I do pray for her, that things work out and she’s able to have her baby back in her life. I know she was fighting hard for him. But I pray God’s love surrounds her and God-willing, I will be able to connect with her again.

I truly, truly do hate the world treats people that are different – people that stand out from everybody else. I had the position of popularity and I misused it once. But I promise to do my best to never misuse it again. When a situation arises where someone needs a voice, I wish to be that voice for them, to stand up on their behalf. Just because you don’t think the same as everyone else or do the same things everyone else does is not a reason to be treated so badly. Stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. Make a difference in someone’s life. Even if it’s just one person you’ve helped, you’ve literally just changed a person’s entire world. Do what you can and don’t delay. You never know the good you can leave behind.

The Comfort of a Gray, Rainy Day

Yesterday morning, I jumped in my car like usual. I drove to the end of the driveway like usual, and turned down our street like usual. But something was slightly unusual about today, and that was the atmosphere around me.

I normally have the radio tuned into our local Christian station, but my husband had taken my car to the gym the night before without me. So instead, I turned on the ignition to the beginning of the song, “See You Again” by Wiz Khalifa. I normally don’t like his music, but with the impact this song had, especially at the end of the latest Fast and Furious. I really, really like this song. Mix that song, with gray skies, and light rain. Perfection. A certain mood attained. Just right for this moment.

When I was younger, my mother always drove when she was upset. In fact, we probably spent more time on the road than we ever did at home. Whether it was driving at the end of the school week to visit my grandparents, and then waiting until the morning of school to get up extra early and drive back in time to meet our bus, we were always on the road. It was a way of life.

My favourite was always being in the passenger seat while my mother was driving, when the skies were dark and there was a light rain with the radio on. To me, that speaks comfort. To me, that speaks perfection. To me, that speaks home. I may be a case of a kid who never really knew what home was. I may be a case of a person who has a distorted way of looking at things. But as an adult, I feel that in my confusion and unstable life, I have found the very things that can be stable, that can be comforting, no matter what season of life one may be in.

So call me crazy, or whatever you please. But I have security in the fact I have experienced so much in life. I’ve been through troubling places, I’ve lived and experienced so many different cultures and schools. I have been dragged through the fire multiple times, and yet I can tell you exactly how not to fall apart when others may possibly see no way out.

I’m not a person who has despised my childhood, but rather a person who is thankful for learning what is most important to survive whatever may come in an adult life. You can plan your life, you can plan your job, your spouse, your schooling, etc… But plans rarely work out the way they are supposed to. The one thing you can prepare is your reactions, your attitude, and your stability. If you have that, with God by your side, it won’t matter whether money is an obstacle or struggle. Because you’ve already learned how to deal with change before.

It pays to be happy with the little things in life, because it’s the little things that will keep you going. So learn now what makes you happy, learn now how to react to change. Find comfort in the things that are stable to you, even if it’s driving in a car on a gray, rainy day.

When I Realized My Grandfather Really Wasn’t Coming Back

Something happened today that really jarred my memory and brought me to write this post. I saw the following picture on Facebook and it got me thinking about my grandfather.

It took me right back to the moments where I can remember thinking about him and instantly started crying. Even now writing this, I can feel the water filling up in my eyes. I know many of you will say that you have/had an awesome grandfather to, but I’d like to take a minute to tell you about mine, and how special he truly was.

I guess it starts when my mother became pregnant with me. My parents were not married. I guess my grandfather liked my dad, but he was very upset about the whole situation and didn’t talk to my mother for days. However, being the man that he was, he still bought her a crib and everything she would need for me, even though he wasn’t talking to her. He was always that way, taking care of things even when he was upset.

Of course, as soon as I was born, he was completely smitten. My mother is a child of two, but lived very much a single child’s life. She never met her brother as he died on a surgery table a few months after he was born. That meant, I was the first and only grandchild.

My parents didn’t stay together very long. They did get married after I was born, but separated when I was about 4, officially divorcing when I was around 5. Where do you think we went back to? My grandparents. In fact, their home was very much “home base” my entire life.

My grandfather always spoiled me (and later my other siblings). I have pictures where my toys barely fit in the picture with me. My father told me that I would get tired of opening gifts because there were simply so many. I had this 6″+ man wrapped around my tiny finger. There’s no denying he loved me.

My grandfather was a used car salesman. In fact, it was my mother’s company that he worked for her since she dropped out of college to be home with me. The company was even named after my sister and I. But eventually he took over the company and changed its name since he did become the only one running the business.

I used to love visiting him at his office. My grandmother and I would get lunches for him, he would let me sit in his office chair, I would be called his “Number 1 Dudette”, and I loved the fact that everywhere we went, people always knew and respected my grandfather, and thus treated me as if I was a special person. I had never met anyone who didn’t know or like my grandfather.

If you could imagine the biggest realistic playground in the world, that would be my grandfather’s car lot. He gave me access to all the keys and vehicles in his lot. I can still remember the amount of fun we had pretending to drive the cars, and especially in exploring the only RV I remember him having. Only once did he ask me to backup a truck into a corner spot. My mother sat in the passenger seat with me, and I remember learning really quick to use my mirrors. I was so scared I would mess up his vehicles in this tight spot. But I did it! I still can’t believe he trusted me…

If I could compare him to anything, it would very much be the godfather. I’m not joking when I say that everyone seemed to know who he was. He was an amazing man when he was happy, but he was always a man you feared when he was unhappy. I don’t remember him every getting mad at me, but it was a general rule that when he came home, the remote control to the television had to be in the right spot for him to lay on the couch and watch what he wanted. He became upset if the remote went missing. There were just certain things you knew not to do.

Sometimes, my grandmother and him would fight. I’m sure there’s not a couple in the world who has not at least had one argument. Sometimes, or maybe more than sometimes, this meant he would stay at his office for the night. It was a conveniently built, small building that contained 3 rooms and a tiny hallway. One room was “the office”. The second room was of course a washroom. And the third room was his bedroom. It contained only a tv, a bed, and a mini fridge. It pretty much had everything he needed if he needed a night away. So it was a fairly normal occurrence for him not to come home sometimes.

The best thing about my grandfather was that he was always there for us. There was a time when we didn’t have the most money, and work was slow. My grandfather always provided what we needed, and then some. Most of you know that I have moved like 20 times with my family, not including on my own. The one person who was always there, regardless of where we were, was my grandfather. He never missed an opportunity to come and stay with us. (Of course I should say my grandmother always came with him as well, but I will dedicate a post to her another day.) He was honestly one of the biggest constants in my life.

When my family made the official decision to move from the east coast to the west coast, my grandparents offered to bring my sister and I out at the end of summer so that we could spend the extra time with our father. It was a fair bit of a long drive, but even then my grandfather trusted me with reading the map (before GPS systems). I almost think his belief in me helped me grow to the independent woman I am today. I have a lot to credit him for.

They stayed with us at our new place for a few days. Early in the morning, him and I would get up and drive to a hotel or another homey restaurant to eat. He was not a chain-restaurant type of person. Even back in the town he worked, he had one particular restaurant he preferred to eat at, and everybody knew his specials and what he enjoyed eating. He always preferred the homestyle cooking. In fact, he met my grandmother while she was waitressing at such a type of restaurant. My family and I have visited that restaurant a few times and imagined what it must have been like. They still have the juke boxes and the old stools. Sometimes it’s nice to preserve history rather than to embrace change.

We then took a trip to the “big city” so my grandparents could see it before they left. We had a lot of fun. At one point, we lost my grandfather in the big mall. I’ll never forget him driving around on those motorized scooters for people who can’t walk well. He had even gotten an orange smoothie and I guess spilled it all over the machine. If you knew my grandfather like I did, you would picture him using colourful language for the time he was mad, then acting like nothing ever happened.

I don’t remember how we ever found him, but I can tell you it was one of the hardest good-byes of my life.This wasn’t just moving a few hours away, this was a four day drive across the country. Of course they would come visit again, but the visits would never be as frequent as before. What I didn’t know was that my tears would get worse before they ever got better.

Literally two or three days after we returned to our new home, I got a call from my grandmother. It sounded like her for sure, but something was a little different. She asked to speak to my mom pretty much right away, so I gave my mom the phone and sat on the landing of the stairs. My mother took the phone into her room which was at the top of the stairs. The next words I heard told me pretty much everything I didn’t want to hear. She said, as she began crying, “Oh Mom!”.

My grandparents had been involved in a car accident on their journey home. An impatient driver went in their lane to pass a semi-truck and didn’t see my grandparents van coming at them. My grandmother was in the hospital, a little bruised but otherwise ok (she would later need nose surgery to correct the alignment). My grandparents’ friend who was helping them drive home had so many broken bones, including ribs and shoulder, and would also need counselling for what happened (he was driving at the time – completely not his fault). But my grandfather didn’t make it.The speed they were traveling on the highway, and the impact of a completely head-on hit left the vehicle in shambles and took my grandfather with it.

Immediately, we packed and drove back to the city. I thankfully had a great aunt and uncle who lived just outside the limits and welcomingly invited us in until we could all make arrangements to fly home. My mother was able to fly right away to be with my grandmother, but there were 4 more of us to fly, and we had to wait for a cheaper ticket to afford it.

It was so strange when I got home. Being in my grandparents house seemed so normal. I mean, I was only at my “new home” for less than a week. I had no attachments to it and didn’t even have to act like it was supposed to be my new home. I had come home and it felt like life should be normal again.

I know I cried a few times, but I remember just having the attitude and thoughts of “My grandfather is just at his office, staying the night like he usually does. Sometime he’ll come home.”

I still remember it as clear as yesterday: My mother and I were sitting in the living room, on separate couches, not talking much as we didn’t for a while, and her saying the exact same thing that I felt – that Grampy was just at his office and sometime he would come home. And it hit us right then that we had to realize it was wasn’t true, that Grampy really wasn’t coming back. I broke down (just like I am again now) because he was always there, for everything! How could he not come back this time! How could the one stable thing in my life not come back! It was so hard to accept.

Sitting in his house, seeing all of his old stuff, going to his office, it was all so hard to do when you realize the person who has always been there for you, the person who has loved you your whole life was suddenly gone. My nickname would never be used again, except when telling stories of him. My promise from him of giving me my first car would never come true. My life was drastically left with an empty hole that I’m not sure was ever filled again. Nobody could take his place, and I could never have been prepared for that instant change in time.

Life is not fair, and it never will be. The devil is waiting for any opportunity to attack and make a mess of things. He knows which strings to pull and he knows how to make things hurt you more than anyone else. He knows he can damage us and take away everything that means the world to us, which is why it’s so important to turn to God when you’re hurting, to let Him hold you and tell you that everything is going to be ok, because one day, it will. One day, when Jesus returns and we are taken to Heaven with Him, there will not be anymore pain, there will not be anymore death, there will not be anymore tears. I don’t know what my grandfather’s relationship with Christ was like. I know he sort of had a falling out at one point, but he insisted my mom make sure she took us to church. So I only hope and pray that he had a good relationship with God, because it would be so nice to run into those loving arms I miss so dearly, the loving arms that were missing during both of my graduations and my wedding, the loving arms that were taken away from me way too soon.

I miss this man more than anything, and truly just thinking of how much I miss him brings me to tears almost instantly. Hold your loved ones close and make sure you let them know how important they are to you. You never know which instant will take them away.

Day 5

Another morning where I got to wake up on my own. No alarm clocks needed. Too bad this wasn’t every day!

The first thing I did when I woke up was drank a bottle of water. I know for an absolute fact, I did not get even half as much water in as I should have yesterday. So without a thought, I chugged a bottle back.

For breakfast, I ate four mini red bananas. If you haven’t had red bananas before, you should try them! They have a hint of raspberry and are super yummy. However, be careful. They take FOREVER to ripen, but when they do, they ripen really quickly. I had a bunch of 8, and 4 are ready. The others are still very hard.

After breakfast, we got ready to go to the gym… except we didn’t go to the gym. We went to the mall instead.

On the way to the mall, we stopped at Tim Horton’s for my husband. I was so proud of myself! I did not indulge in a single doughnut or a single drink! I was so hungry (4 mini bananas were definitely not enough). I waited until we got to the mall and then bought those Korean potatoes I’ve been eyeing for a long time. They were so good – well worth the wait!

We shopping for 4 1/2 hours! But we managed to get him everything he needed which was good. At least for his first day of his new job. We’ll have to shop more tomorrow.

After coming home, I was so tired from shopping. I ended up taking a nap while my husband went to the gym without me. Then, when I woke up, I started my phone calls. Not including my husband’s mother and grandmother, I also had 4 of my own to call (mom, stepmom, two grandmothers). I’m not much of a phone person, so it’s unusual for me to call that much but it was good to talk to everyone.

While I was on the phone, I ate a big salad made from 50/50 Organic Mix, organic blueberries, dried cranberries, sunflower seeds, soya nuts, organic cucumber, and my usual dressing made from avocados, a spoon of vegan cream cheese, and salsa. Yum! Yum! Yum!

We went and got groceries at 9:30 p.m.! We never go that late, but even after my husband came back from the gym, he had to call his mother and grandmother for Mother’s Day. So it took quite awhile.

While we were shopping, my husband found these organic jalapeño corn chips that he ate while we were shopping (don’t worry, we paid for it still). I tried one and they were absolutely delicious.

After we got home, right before I went to bed, I took two pieces of Silver Hills Squirrely bread, and put a little peanut butter and a little peach jam made with stevia. Takes me back to the pb&j sandwiches as a kid. Yum!