Discontent Part 2

Contributing Factors

So feeling discontented has got to be coming from somewhere. Last post I outlined areas in my life I feel discontent with. I don't want to be a person who lives with an uneasy feeling, packing it around like whiny child and pretending that this is how it's supposed to be. I want resolution! Where are some of these feelings coming from? Let's break it down.

1.     Pinterest Stress. I Admit it. It is an embarrassing thing to admit to, and I loathe the title: Pinterest Stress. I wish there was something more dignified to call it - but there it is. This awful phrase is an over simplification of a sort of over arching problem of too much social media. There are just so many AMAZING things going on in people’s lives, I get excited about them all and I think I should be doing ALL THE THINGS. Here is a brief glimpse of all the things that inspire parts of my heart mind or soul:

a.    Living with no furniture! This is an article about Katy Bowman and her family and how they have no chairs and they basically sleep on the floor and go barefoot all the time in the name of good health!  Love.

b.   Living in a Tent! While building a homestead! You can check out this super rad adventure at firsttimefarmers.com

Figure 1: Photo credits to @firsttimefarmers via Instagram

Figure 1: Photo credits to @firsttimefarmers via Instagram

c.    Giving my kids adventurous, outdoor exploration and appreciation like Wild Explorers Club

Figure 2 Photo Credit to @nicolebianchi_ Instagram - via @wildexplorersclub

d.    Getting rid of basically everything we own and living a minimalist lifestyle.  Amanda Gregory is maxing minimalism in a beautiful way @mytinytribe on Instagram.

Figure 3: Photo Creds to @mytinytribe via Instagram

All her kids’ toys fit in that one basket. I kid you not. #my_minimalist_mondays

e.    Jumping into a van/bus/air-stream/tin-can/old motor-home and driving across the planet experiencing all there is to take in in this wild wide world. Check out one such adventure at www.americanfrolic.com

Figure 4: Photo Creds to @americanfrolic via Instagram

All of these examples are just a small smattering of the amazing things I have been reading about and wanting to do. I could list about 10 other things here - many of which are diametrically opposed to each other - that catch my attention and my heart. I mean, how can I travel the world and have a homestead? It ain’t gonna happen. In fact, as I was beginning to identify this as a thing in my brain, the Holy Spirit spoke some very profound words to me: “Mind your own business and do your laundry.” Touché.

2.    I am into year two of my life being drastically different than it has been in the past 10 years. The past ever, actually. I’ve never been a stay at home mom before, and “busy” for me used to mean I ran from one activity to the next, visiting with friends, teaching high school or running youth ministry. Suppers with people, movie dates, marking, planning retreats, meetings with fellow teachers or youth ministers who were excited about doing rad and creative things for kids. These days “busy” means that life moves so slowly, that once you take out meals and naps and the prep and time each involves, we can only do two other things in a day - if we are lucky. Clean. Take the dog for a walk. Go to a parent link activity. Visit friends. Bake. Pick up dog poo. Garden (if the kids allow it). Do something creative like write or sew or knit (if the kids allow it). Go to a park. Go to the backyard. And if I want to go do something myself - well that happens on Wednesday evening for 75 minutes. I go to an exercise class. If the kids allow.

These are pretty simple things. These things are my life. On the one hand, THESE THINGS ARE MY LIFE!!!!!! On the other hand, these things are my life.

This is what I like t call, the lack of the “Big Show.” I used to be a player in the “Big Show.” Now I am stage directing a “Little Show.”

I could list more things I guess, but really it comes down to these things. Actually it seems to all boil down to one thing now that I have it written out: lack of perceived adventure.

Perceived because I am on a journey right now that I have never been on before - so this season is inherently adventurous. Hmmmmmm. - I was expecting this post to take a different route. I was going to lay out a whole bunch of things and solve each problem. Funny how when I write things down through the course of a few weeks there is unexpected revelation.

Stay tuned for part three which I can see taking shape in my mind’s eye as I type: ways I am truly living adventure - a mind shift.

Peace.

So, Dreads.....

It's been about three weeks since I started this dreaded journey. Sorry.  I couldn't resist. 

:)

Anyway,  I am still at the beginning as not all my little braids have been transformed into dreadlocks yet. I have about 15 braids left to go. Ugh. Let me tell you, this whole thing is not for the faint of heart or scalp.  Or the vain. On Instagram when you follow people with dreadlocks, even baby dreads, they have one picture up of their normal hair and then the next day or two and there is a photo of them with perfectly shaped knotted and placed dreads. It is deceptive, friends.  I have been doing this on my own and there is no such thing as going to bed one day and and waking up with beautiful dreads. I have had these little braids in for 20-odd days and they get fuzzier and frizzier every day. I have to pull the dreads and braids up in a bun and wrap a scarf around my chaos just to go out. I'll post some photos.  Seriously.  It is out of control up there.

Once you have a head of new dreadlocks, it is recommended that you let them chill for about a week before you wash them, but since I've been at this three weeks already, I don't have the luxury of letting the newbies have a week to work their magic before they are assaulted by shampoo and water.  *YES! Dreadlocks are meant to be washed. For some reason people think that dreads are dirty and greasy, but the opposite should be true. Hair dreads better if it is clean and free of oils, so a set of squeaky clean locs are definitely more desirable to a head of smelly, greasy tangles.* The cleaning is good, but shampoo is slippery and can leave moisturizing residue that can cause those hard earned knots to untangle. So even if my two or three new locs are looking tight, after a shower and a couple of days they are loosening up and getting fuzzy and misshapen. And then they need maintenance.

I am at the point where I have over half my head done. Although many of my dreads need some TLC and attention, I am feeling like I should just hurry and get those last ones done so I can focus on the maintenance and trying to curb some of the frizz in a productive way - by snagging it up into a dreadlock! Of course I started with the bottom and am working my way to the top so all my ridiculous fuzz is sitting mostly on the top of my head. I would do it that way.

The creation of a dread

I could use wax to help shape the locs and minimize the frizz.  I don't want to. It has worked great for many others, but I just have an aversion to putting it in my hair.  When I was researching online, I found more people opposed to wax and so I have settled myself into that camp. Not from experience or knowledge or anything other than it just seems like the best way for me to go with this. Kinda like a gut thing. I think that wax would make the dreads dirtier - stuff sticks to wax - and I would worry more about things like my dreads drying properly after a wash and potentially developing knot rot. Ewww. It's a thing. I am just going to work those puppies over with my crochet hook as much as possible over the summer and hope they lock up. I got some bar shampoo from LUSH which I will use and I am going to try an apple cider vinegar rinse after as recommended by an etsy shop owner who makes her own shampoo for dreadlocks. One thing I have learned about dreadlocks in the past week is that they may need to be moisturized. It seems that since the oils from your scalp no longer get worked down through your tresses, they can become dry and brittle and that isn't a good scene for dreadlocks either.  So I will have to figure that out, but all in due time.

Let me also just ask, can't a girl just be a 30 something, Catholic, stay at home mom who doesn't smoke weed or read tarot cards and want to have dreadlocks? I don't own any barefoot sandals (anymore - though I did as a kid!) or have any Buddha or Vishnu statues, or burn incense - although I really love the smell of incense when it's used at mass - or ohm. I feel like I am a bit of an anomaly. At an end of the year event at the Catholic school my husband teaches at, our member of the board of education, who I have been getting to know through some other venues, (it is a small town) questioned me about my sprouting dreadlocks. "I heard all about it in a hemp shop in the Caribbean!" she told me. She wanted to know why I wanted them and what my dad had to say about it! I just want them. I think they look cool. "I'm not Rasta, or anything," I assured her with a laugh thinking about how I might look as a Eucharistic minister at the end of the month with my knotted locs sticking out. Also, I'm a 30 year old woman who has been making questionable choices about my hair styles for YEARS now. Who the heck cares what my DAD has to say about it? What the what?

http://seekingfaith.stedward.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/shutterstock_246673681.jpg

I am not Rasta, in fact I realized I don't know much about what Rastafari really is so I of course Googled it and what I know I read here: http://listverse.com/2014/01/06/10-things-to-know-about-rastafari-beliefs/  The university degrees in me are screaming in my ears about reliable sources, of which I can't be sure this is one. 

fourthy.deviantart.com

Is it so strange to want dreads but none of the stereotypical culture that comes with it? Now I'm not saying that I am not a little more hippie, a little more free spirit, a little more on the fringe than some. Maybe I am. Or at least I kinda was before moving to this little town that is a strange combination of Red Neck-Granola Crunchers. But I would just like to feel like I'm not the only dreadhead who loves Jesus, is into gardening, eats red meat with delight and reads papal encyclicals. Anyone with me?

Peace.

UPDATE: 

I wrote this post almost 3 weeks ago! I STILL don't have all my dreads in. Seven(ish) to go. 

What do you mean having a one year old and a renovation project and a husband who is now off on summer vacation and a bunch of hiking trips equals very little advancement on my dread-venture AND no time to properly edit, add photos and post to my blog? I don't get it.

Why Is Hair Such A Big Deal?

I am not a long haired girl. It just isn’t me. I cut my hair off for the first time in grade 8 - which made me about 13 years old - and I grew it back initially because the change was just such a huge shock I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. But within about a year, I cut my hair again. And then again. And again. I cut it about three times in a week shorter and shorter until we got to a place where I loved the new look. I went from shoulder-ish length down to what I lovingly refer to as “hockey hair”, to a strange bowl-esque/mushroom-y kind of cut, to a super short pixie cut. I LOVED it. My mom HATED it. My dad said it was just hair, and so I got to keep it short, and short it stayed all through high school, most of university and into my adult life. I have had long hair twice since I finally got it down to my beloved pixie way back then: I grew it out for two years conveniently around the time I got married so my wedding photos have a pretty sweet up-do. I like to call it a faux hawk/bump with class. Which was quickly followed with a real mohawk; red and black with lightening shaved in the side of my head. The second time I have had long hair is now.

The weeding do, 2006

The hawk that followed.

I feel like I don’t even look like myself if my hair is down and flowy and, ugh. It is just weird. Even my husband doesn’t think it is me.

June 1, 2015 This is my hair as it is right now. Just showered, not combed, not straightened.
I am about to section it into braids to await dreadlocks.

I have run the gamut of colours and short edgy dos. Mohawks, fauxhawks, long bangs, rat tails, spikes, and shaved. I loved them all. About three years ago, I decided to start growing my hair. I had a goal. Something I hadn’t done before. Something that was going to take some commitment. Something that made everyone cringe. Dreadlocks.

Here are a few examples of the hair I have had over the past 10 years:

I am not a planner by nature. I don’t have 5 or 10 year goals. We have a supper menu on a chalk board in the hallway because my husband got tired of me never knowing what the crap I was going to make for supper that day. So the biggest plans in my life are what’s for supper Monday to Friday, and the rest just comes at me. Or I come at it. I guess it depends on the day.

BUT. I planned for this hair. I have a goal. Dreads.

Also, I should add that I am a strange combination of an opportunist - looking for someone else to do the hard work for me - and a “do it the hard way” kind of girl. I don’t like to spray weeds. I like to pull them. (why? I don’t know. I feel like it is more meaningful. And more effective.) I recently made soap. I know I can buy it. But I MADE some. And I think that’s cool.

Anyway. I put out a plea on Facebook to my friends and family for someone to help me out with putting these dreads in my hair. I really only have a limited amount of time where putting them in makes sense, because soon my hands are going to be full full full of a new baby and a toddler, so I wanted to maximize the summer and this time with only one kid to really work at these dreads. (In case you are unaware - dreadlocks are very labour intensive for the first little while - up to a year - while they mature and lock in. If they aren’t looked after, they get gnarly and scary) I got lots of encouragement - and some cringes - but no one offered up their time or energy to help me out. (To be fair, recently, a friend I know who has helped maintain her brother's dreads has offered to help.)

I went to a local salon for a bang trim. I asked there. I mean, it doesn’t hurt to ask. $100 an hour. For at least 8 hours. Probably more like 10. Honey, ain’t no one got a grand to drop on a hairstyle. Please. So. Here I am. I have a head full of hair that doesn’t feel like it belongs to me, and a goal. And a bit of a time limit. Sigh. I guess I’m going to have to do it myself. At least I am not scared of the hard way. I guess my weeds are just going to have to wait to be pulled while I dread my hair (and blog about it!).

My hair is a big part of the expression of who I am. It has been for a long time. It is loud when I don’t feel like I have the voice to be loud. It attracts attention. It has a mind of its own. So, while I thought about maybe just giving up and cutting the whole mess off, going back to my “safe” hair styles - I decided I just need to go for it. It is going to take me some time to get it done, it took me two days just to section my hair and braid it so it would be somewhat organized for this endeavour. But I think I want to document this too, because I am really excited to see how it all goes. And in a year, to see what they look like. If it doesn’t work out, that’s ok too. I’m not scared of a pair of clippers. J

Braids in. Now for the real work to begin.

My first dreadlock of many.

I know most people don’t give two poops about a post on hair - let alone a plan to document my hair in the coming months, but if you made it to the end of this post, I feel like you should be rewarded and if you comment or if you know me well enough to send me a text or email, I will send you something just for you to say thanks for actually reading, and at least pretending to care about how firmly I have attached my identity to my hair. You are either a great friend, or you are super bored!

Peace!

So Many Good Things...

Monday was a good day. Even a great day! I was so pleased with Monday. I made pancakes for just me and the babe. Which means I had a bag of leftover pancakes in the fridge ready to slam into the toaster at a moment's notice. SCORE! This breakfast win was accompanied by a calm, sunny, and warm day. If you follow my Instagram, you will know what a feat that is for this town. It was so nice that I took my one year old out, set her on the lawn and started doing some raking. Yard work is not something everyone likes to do, but for me - it helps me to really feel connected to the place I am. I love being able to see the progress of a garden, even just a small one, and the sense of peace and life a few green things can bring to a space always leaves me in awe and breathing easier.

After having a baby last spring, my front door garden had gotten away from me at our old house. I was so relieved and excited to get to work in it once my energy was up and I was willing to put baby down for naps!

This is the after photo - once I cleaned out the dead material and weeds and was working on adding a little brick path. Also, the lilacs help make the scene a little more appealing. By the end of the summer, I had quite a front door garden complete with about a half a dozen tomatoes to harvest and two home grown cucumbers!

I am the most amateur of amateur gardeners, but I will hopefully put some pictures up of my yard this year as we begin to make the space our own - and fruitful! I loved our last front door garden so much, but the new yard is so BIG! and full of potential with hills and mulchy places and a big sprawling willow tree - I think it will become a very beautiful and interesting place to be as we work on it in the months and years to come.

The gardening, however, doesn't last long when you have a newly walking one year old who decides she is comfortable enough to go exploring the very hilly yard complete with cement steps. So my pile of twigs and dead grass is presently still sitting on the lawn, killing the new grass trying to grow under it. You must understand; we HAD to go exploring, throw dirt, find (and bite) rocks, pick grass. These things are essential.

After spending too long outside and having a hangry baby, we made a quick lunch and retreated to "the big bed" for our afternoon nap.

Naps, my friends, are essential. They are what gets a one year old and her pregnant mama through the day. Every day. It doesn't even matter how well we slept the night before. Nap. My husband said it best: "sleep when you can." Because you never know what may be in store for you the coming night (this is a literary technique known as foreshadowing.) I like to think of it as "being fully present" or "living in the moment" or even "carpe diem!" Because let's be honest, if you don't just acknowledge how extremely tired pregnant/nursing/running after a toddler tired really is - you will die. Fact. Don't try to do anything fancy like the lunch dishes. Just go have a nap.

And, oh luxury of luxuries, as I was laying in my bed with my little bah-bah snoozing away, I had the time for some devotions. I know that this is a place where I fall so very short in, and that my time in the Word should be the most important thing I do every single day but, my friends, I fail at this. It is not a secret. I admit it. However, I took some time on Monday to settle into the daily readings, read some reflections and listen to the podcast from pray-as-you-go.org. Which I LOVE. Not only are the reflections top drawer, they are all done in Scottish accents. You guys. Jesus and Scottish accents. For real.

Henry Ossawa Tanner "Study for Nicodemus Visiting Jesus" 1899

 ....... Anyway, the gospel reading was from John 3:1-8 where Nicodemus meets with Jesus at night and Jesus speaks of being born of the Spirit. And the Spirit met with me there in my snugly bed with my baby snoozing. It was so great, because I felt more in tune with the Spirit in the past couple of days than I have in a while. I have been trying to feel where the Spirit is blowing me through the day - and even when I am not sure how things are going to turn out, listening and responding sure does make life more interesting.

We rounded out the afternoon with a quick visit to Daddy who was coaching and a shopping trip for groceries and the baby essentials: diapers, a new ball and tank tops for mama. They were racer back tanks, you guys. My favourite. I've basically had the same wardrobe since high school. I'm not sorry.


When we were leaving Wal-Mart (I'm not proud I shop there, but I live in a really small town with few options - I know, I know. It makes me a little sick too and I will try to solve this life issue with prayer and fasting.) there were a couple of hippies with a white dog and a sign telling all who drove by of their broke, travelling, hungry woes. So when I got to the grocery store, I bought a few extra things I thought travelling hippies might find useful (secretly I wish I were a travelling hippy) with the intention of heading back to the parking lot at Wal-ly World with gifts to send them on their way slightly better nourished.

Of course they were AWOL when I went back for them. You know what they say, "There's no rest for travelling hippies." So - I let the Spirit blow me to our "downtown", which is only about 4 blocks from my house, where I found a couple of local guys who hang out down there. I'm not sure if they are technically homeless, I haven't lived here long enough to know everyone's story, but they fit the bill of a couple of guys who could use a little extra nourishment. So I handed over the groceries. Actually, in all fairness, as I was buying things for the hippies, I was thinking to myself about what real social justice is. Am I just blessing the blessed by handing over groceries to a couple who is travelling the country? I mean, I don't doubt they were travelling on a nothing budget, (I have this thing about trusting everyone's word at face value - call it a flaw, I am glad I live this way) I know people who have. And I don't know their story, why they are on the road like they are, but why am I so willing to help people who are living one of my dreams, but so much less willing to drop $30 for groceries for the dudes down my block who REALLY need to see some love in the world? Anyway - Social Justice. Something I need to write a whole post about sometime.

BUT the great day doesn't end there! I ate a bowl of no name Frosted Flakes for supper when I got home, ditched my fam-jam and went to a MOVIE!!!! All by myself. But it was great. Like I said, I am 4 blocks from down town (half the town is) so it took me about 5 minutes to walk to the theater that was showing a Canadian film, Big News from Grand Rock, hosted by our Allied Arts Council.

The director, Daniel Perlmutter, was there all the way from Toronto, to open the film for us and answered questions at the end. I walked home after in my flippy flops enjoying the beautiful spring evening; full of popcorn and fountain Coke. :)  All was truly right with the world.

The blurry evidence of the beautiful weather.

The bustling Monday evening night life in my small town.

This beautiful spring day, filled with things I love and enjoy, came to an end with a basically sleepless night, a sick and disgruntled toddler, and a 5 am chat with Ralph on the big white telephone where I got to relive my large bag of popcorn and my once delicious fountain pop. All good things must come to an end I guess....

....and just wondering, does it take anyone else DAYS to write, edit and post a blog post that is just about one day of activities? Sheesh!

Peace!