You get some great, amazingly fantastic news. What’s the first thing you do?
By Tracy Schruder
I exercise gratitude.
When I receive great news, my immediate response is to express gratitude. The news doesn’t have to be personal for me to feel thankful. In fact, I’m deeply moved by hearing people’s stories about life’s milestones and successes, such as the birth of a child, a wedding, a career advancement, or a published article or book. I also appreciate stories of philanthropy and kindness.
Whenever I hear such news, I take a moment to thank the universe and the individuals who share their stories with me. It’s a way of acknowledging the beauty and goodness in the world.
Of course, when the news is more personal, my gratitude deepens. For instance, when one of my articles or pictures gets published in the local newspaper, or my manuscript is considered for publication, I feel immense joy and thankfulness. Similarly, when a client’s health improves after a Reiki treatment, or a student excels in their Reiki courses, I’m filled with gratitude for the opportunity to make a positive impact.
But gratitude isn’t limited to big achievements or milestones. I’m also thankful for the everyday blessings in my life, especially those related to my loved ones. When my family and friends experience joy, success, or good health, I’m grateful for the love and connection we share.
In a world that often focuses on challenges and negativity, practicing gratitude can be a powerful antidote. By acknowledging and appreciating the good things in life, we can cultivate a more positive and compassionate mindset. So, let’s take a moment to express our gratitude for the joys and blessings in our lives.
Are there any activities or hobbies you’ve outgrown or lost interest in over time?
The activity that I’ve lost interest in is riding my bicycle. I still own a bike, which has been hanging in the garage, gathering dust for over ten years now. I’ve always owned a bicycle, as far back as I can remember. As a teenager, I would often ride my bicycle from our little village in Merrickville to surrounding towns like Smiths Falls, Andrewsville, Burritts Rapids, and Kemptville to visit friends and relatives or attend events.
I really enjoyed riding my bicycle. I appreciated the benefits that came with it, such as a slim figure, strong legs, and increased endurance. I also learned to pace myself and have patience. Additionally, I learned to stay off the highway and take the backroads instead. Often, I would meet various people on my travels, including dog walkers, fellow cyclists, and people out for a stroll. Sometimes, I would ride alongside a stranger and we would strike up a conversation about our experiences or challenges. Some of these people became acquaintances, while others remained strangers.
As I got older, I used my bike as my primary mode of transportation to get to work and back home, since I didn’t have a car or driver’s license yet. Unfortunately, this also led to my bicycle being stolen on three separate occasions. The first time it happened was in September 1997. I had locked my shiny red Norco ten-speed outside my apartment building in the bike rack. It was 4 am, and I was getting ready for work when I heard a sound similar to a chain clanging. I didn’t think much of it and continued getting ready. However, when I stepped outside, I realized that my bike was gone. I had to walk to work until payday.
The second time my bicycle was stolen was when I stopped at a convenience store on my way to work to grab a drink. I had locked my cool, white, and red mountain bike, but it was gone when I came out just ten minutes later. Again, I had to walk to work and wait until payday to buy a new bike. After this incident, I decided to get my driver’s license and a car. However, I still enjoyed biking on weekends and days off, but now it was for pleasure rather than necessity. I would ride on local wildlife reserves and bike trails, and I had taken up photography to enjoy during my travels.
The third time my bicycle was stolen was on one of these trails. I had stopped for a bathroom break, and while I was in the outhouse, someone stole my blue metallic super-cycle mountain bike. I had to walk five miles back to the main road and then home. Although I was frustrated, I eventually got over it. As the years passed, I found myself heading out to the trails less and less. It’s been a good ten years now since I’ve gone for a decent ride. However, writing this post has inspired me to consider giving it another try this spring.
My favourite candy is old-fashioned, hard Christmas candy. It is packed with a multi-flavoured, medley, of Christmas past, present and future. When I was a child, enjoying this candy was more about the excitement of the days ahead and less about the actual candy. Mom always had the Christmas treats spread out, all through the month of December. She began to bake on the first day of and she would put out beautiful candy dishes filled with all kinds of different Christmas candies.
Mom and her Christmas time baked goods 😋
She made baked cookies, squares, and pies. We also had nuts, licorice (all sorts), and candy canes, of course. However, the treats I enjoyed most were the old-fashioned Christmas candies that she always put out first.
Mixed nuts All sorts liquorice Old-fashioned Christmas Candles
I could never eat just one. I would fill my cheeks full and enjoy the flavor explosion inside my mouth – cinnamon and clove with a peppermint flare. My hands and mouth would be stained and sticky from eating them. Each year was full of fun and memorable things, all attached to these Christmas candies and the memories they bring.
I still buy these candies every single year. I fill my cheeks full of old-fashioned Christmas cheer. The flavor takes me back to memories of the past, when Mom made Christmas a treat-filled blast.
I need a break from winter! Today the temperature is minus eight degrees Celsius.
Weather report from my phone
Typically, in this tiny Canadian town, where I live, the temperature can range anywhere from two or three degrees above freezing to minus forty degrees Celsius. This week looks like the temperature will be hovering around minus fourteen. The wind chill is, almost always, ten degrees below the ambient temperature. Some days, it feels like it could cut through exposed skin, like a knife. Makes me giggle saying that, while thinking, maybe, Brian Adams’ song, Cuts Like A Knife was less about love and more about the winter weather here, in Canada. He’s a home grown, Canadian artist, by the way. Bryan Adams is a Canadian singer, songwriter, and musician. He was born on November 5, 1959, in Kingston, Ontario, Canada. Adams’ music career spans over four decades, and he is known for his hit songs and albums that have become iconic in Canadian and international music.
Even though he wrote this song ‘Cuts like a knife’ about his own heartbreak and his personal struggles with relationships, it seems fitting here for this daily prompt, because each year as winter settles in, I feel like I too am broken up with and feel hurt from the temporary, separation from Summer. Hahaha.
Let me regress, I could use a break from Winter. I need a break from the cold temperatures and the face numbing, wind. I could use a break from shoveling snow and driving, or sliding, down the icy roads.
I look forward to Spring, budding plants and budding trees. I look forward to fields of dandelions blowing off their first set of seeds.
Don’t get me wrong, I love living in Canada. The good, the bad and the ugly of it all. However, even if it’s only once, every couple years, I would love a break from winter.
I always detested making a pot of coffee the night before. In order to achieve the flavour and body, of nice cup of Joe, I would have to make an eight cup pot (six cup waste because we only ever drank 2 cups) then set the timer for a fresh brew in the morning. I use the word fresh loosely here. The coffee was never as good as it could be and oftentimes I would grab a cup from the local coffee shop on my way to work. Seems leaving the coffee grinds in the basket all night would interfere with the freshness factor. That was until the invention of the Keurig single serving coffee machine!
Keurig single serve
Now, there’s no reason for night time preparation. I brew a single fresh cup any time I want. It’s fast and efficient, leaving little to no clean up. Plus I have big cash savings because I no longer stop to buy my second cup of Joe from the local coffee shop anymore. I also was no longer dumping six cups down the drain each day. Which in turn it gave me more time at home before I had to get to work. Each morning, I enjoy a fresh brew or two. It’s delicious and satisfying. For me, it’s the most important invention in my lifetime because it saves me time and money as well as being so very convenient.
Describe your most ideal day from beginning to end.
My most ideal day begins with me being aroused up by the sound of birds singing outside my bedroom window. As I open my eyes, I can feel the warmth of the rays of sunshine that are streaming into my room. I close my eyes again and take a deep soothing breath. Time to do a body scan. I feel each part of my body from within. I beginning with my toes all the way up to the crown of my head. It’s kind of like a sound check. I feel my feet for example and my feet let me know that they are good to go. Once I finish that process I’ll get out of bed. I can smell coffee brewing. ‘How wonderful, someone has made coffee.’ No one is there and I have the place to myself. I have a a nice cup of coffee and sit in my favourite chair. I open my computer and read blog posts for a while. I like the daily prompt so, I participate and write about my experiences. Time for some breakfast, some fruit and cereal. After drinking another cup of coffee, I head outside for my morning walk. The temperature is cool but the sun is shining in a crisp blue sky. After my walk I return home to warm up with another cup of coffee and sit down at my desk to see what comes to mind. I open a few projects on my computer and pick one to work on. I blissfully write throughout the rest of the morning. I take a break to play with my kitties then grab a sandwich and a tall glass of water for lunch. I take a break from writing for a while and watch some television. Around mid afternoon I work out for an hour. Later, showered and alert I sit back down to write some more. After a while I take a break and meditate for an hour or so. I prepare supper and sit down to eat with my hubby. We finish the meal and he cleans up and does the dishes while I prepare dessert. We enjoy a nice piece of apple pie a la mode then retire to the living room for tea and to watch the news. We discuss our plans for the following day and then turn on our favourite show. Hubby goes to bed and I return to my desk to write some more. Later at the end of my day I prepare for bed and I turn on my favourite nighttime meditation. I fall into blissful sleep with positive thoughts of tomorrow and dreams of amazing adventures.
How do significant life events or the passage of time influence your perspective on life?
Loosing my mom was the most significant and heartbreaking life event that greatly influenced my perspective on life. On the surface, my mother and I were not close. We often fought about stupid things and there was a lot of hurt feelings and distance between us. Deep down though she was my best friend and my biggest fan.
She displayed every piece of artwork that I created for her, proudly, on the walls of the family home. She was present for every art show. She always listened intensely to my poetry and short stories. She always encouraged me to do my best and achieve my goals and dreams, in private. Our love was deep and true.
Mom became really sick during the Covid pandemic. She didn’t have Covid but suffered from COPD and was on oxygen full time.
She had been through so much in her life having Rheumatic fever at 12 years old.
Rheumatic fever is an inflammatory disease that can develop when strep throat or scarlet fever isn’t properly treated. Strep throat and scarlet fever are caused by an infection with streptococcus (strep-toe-KOK-us) bacteria. Rheumatic fever most often affects children ages 5 to 15.
Unfortunately this lead mom to suffer a heart condition called Mitral stenosis (narrowing of the mitral valve).
Ultimately in her late fifties, she had to have heart surgery to replace her Mitral valve with a mechanical one.
The surgery was a success and she was able to recover quickly. However, she would have to take medication like warfarin for the rest of her life.
From time to time she would be rushed to the emergency department at the hospital to get shocked with the paddles to bring her back to life. I could never get a straight answer from my father as to why this continued to happen to her.
I never trusted my father with her care but that is another story.
In 2015 she was diagnosed with COPD. Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD) is a progressive lung disease characterized by chronic inflammation, airway obstruction, and breathing difficulties.
Mom was a lifelong smoker and it caught up to her. She was given a new list of prescription medications to take for this condition along with the medication for her pre existing condition.
For her heart murmur the medications were:
Diuretics To reduce fluid buildup and swelling.
Beta blockers To slow heart rate and reduce blood pressure.
ACE inhibitors to lower blood pressure and reduce strain on the heart.
Anticoagulants To prevent blood clots and stroke.
Anti-arrhythmics To regulate abnormal heart rhythms.
For the COPD her medications were:
Bronchodilators To open airways and improve breathing.
– Short-acting: albuterol, ipratropium
– Long-acting: salmeterol, tiotropium
Corticosteroids To reduce inflammation and swelling.
– Inhaled: fluticasone, budesonide
– Oral: prednisone
Phosphodiesterase-4 inhibitors To reduce inflammation and improve lung function.
– Roflumilast
Combination inhalers To combine bronchodilators and corticosteroids.
– Fluticasone-salmeterol, budesonide-formoterol
Regardless my mom lived the best life that she could.
During her last months of life, she swallowed her pride and asked me to come help take care of her.
On my days off from work, I went out to the homestead and helped her with tiny tasks like doing her hair and getting her wash basin ready for her to clean up. Mom was very proud and right up until three days before her death she washed herself. I would get her a fresh set of jammies out while she was doing that, I would clean the house so she could rest.
I would sit with her and talk about life and my goals and plans for the future. I told her about some of my hurts and she told me about hers. Eventually she would fall asleep and I would tip toe out of the room and head home for the night.
Three days before she passed away we had a long conversation during which she said that she was a miserable mother to me. This brought tears to my eyes and I had a mix of emotions including sadness for her thinking that, relief for the recognition and grief because I knew that she would never admit to that unless the end was near. I responded with a firm no. I then responded by telling her that I knew that I wasn’t the most loving or compassionate daughter that I wish I had been. The final thing she said to me that day and would be the final words I heard from my mom was “ You my girl, are a ray of sunshine. You bring light and joy to everyone and everything you do. I’m so glad that you’re becoming a Reiki healer, no one is better suited for the job. Keep on bringing the light and shine it in dark places to bring light to difficult situations and heal the wounds of others especially and including those who might not otherwise deserve it.”
I weeped silently to myself as I bid her farewell “See you in a couple days.” I said and I kissed her on her cheek and left for the day.
The following Saturday morning started with a phone call from my sister was frantically screaming “Dad can’t wake mom up!”
I responded by telling her “It’s okay, it’s time, prepare yourself and tell dad to leave her alone until I get there. I’m on my way.”
A twenty minute drive seemed like five minutes. I arrived at my parents house to find my mother in a coma. I knew the time was near and I tried to comfort my father to no avail. He had already called an ambulance to take mom to the hospital which she did not want as she wanted to pass away at home with family but I didn’t have any control over him. It was obvious he wasn’t going to honour he final wishes however, it wasn’t the time to argue.
I stayed by her side over the night into the next day. I held her hand and spoke softly about my love for her and how important and loved she was towards anyone who ever had the luxury of knowing her. She opened her eyes a couple of times when my emotions overwhelmed me as if to let me know she could hear me and to comfort me. Mom passed away at Brockville General Hospital at six o’clock in the early morning of September 13, 2021. I was devastated and broken. Nothing was the same and life as I knew it changed forever.
I was completely lost without her. I felt completely severed from my only true connection that I ever had. This forced me into a major awakening period in my life that continues to this day. I took my mother’s advice and I keep bringing the light to everyone and everything that needs it. I often think about my mom in good days and bad. I know that I wouldn’t change a thing about our relationship because it was the best relationship of my life.
Something on your “to-do list” that never gets done.
The forever looming task of sewing is my to do lists’ nemesis. I learned to sew at a very young age. Being third of five children, each wearing good hand me downs from the older siblings, it was almost a necessity to learn to sew.
I taught myself to mend and alter my clothes around the age of seven. Because we were all girls, in my family, save for one brother and we certainly didn’t share the same shape and size . It was a necessity to learn to sew in order to be comfortable and look reasonably decent, in used clothes. I did all of the sewing alterations by hand back then, using only a needle and thread. We didn’t own a sewing machine.
Without intending to be conceded, I have to admit that I became quite good at sewing. My hand me downs almost always looked tailor made and fairly new. I would use only the best parts of the fabric and kind of, redesign the styles, a bit. I Definitely had to re-size everything, especially hemming the pants and skirts.
I learned how to use a sewing machine in my first year of high school. It was in home economics class. I absolutely fell in love with sewing! Using a sewing machine was amazing and it was so much fun. Less finger pricks, yay!
As part of our final grade we had to design and create an outfit. Top and bottom. I chose to make a skirt and jacket. I picked a really cute orange and black news paper print pattern for my fabric. I designed an adorable , calf length skirt with a 6 inch slit in the back and an elastic waist band. The top was a little jacket with a nice angled collar and two buttons at the waist.
I thought I did an okay job on the outfit and I received a good grade but what surprised me most was my classmates reaction. I received many approvals from them and made some new friends. One of the girls was repeating the class and was a grade ahead of me, was particularly interested in my outfit, so much so that she offered to buy it!
I was flattered beyond words and yes, I definitely sold that outfit to her. I was convinced that I should be a seamstress, for my future career, yes indeed.
My plans changed but I never lost my love of sewing, however, in my current life path, the sewing and alterations always get put off and are often carried on, to the next days To Do List.
I love cooking breakfast, especially Bacon and eggs. I love filling the house with the smell of bacon cooking. It’s the perfect way to rouse the family up from their night time slumber. It’s how we get our snap, crackle and pop around here, haha. As soon as that aroma makes its way down the hallway into the bedrooms, you can here the clan arising. After a few groans and farts, they make their ways out of bed and into the kitchen. While rubbing eyes and patting down bed heads, everyone gathers to set the table. With everyone seated and the egg orders in; fried over easy for Bobby, scrambled for Tim and it’s Bacon, extra crispy, for little miss Kim. Maybe it’s the food, that is so easy to cook or maybe it’s people, we share it all with.
What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?
I’m terrified of riding roller coasters. I wasn’t always afraid to ride roller coasters. As a child and right up until I was in my twenties I made it a goal to ride every single roller coaster at the fair, exhibition and theme park. I rode every roller coaster at Marine Land and Wonderland in Toronto and Niagara Falls, over and over again on several occasions throughout my trips there. I remember enjoying the feelings of excitement mixed with terror, plus I got a rush of confidence for being, sometimes, the only member of the group to go first. I had good memories of those times. Fast forward in life and I’m thirty- eight years old. My stepson wants to go to Wonderland for his birthday and I think it’s a stellar idea, so, we go. The day started with all the excitement and anticipation that goes along with a family trip. We arrived at the gate of Wonderland upon opening. Promptly, my stepson dragged us to the newest and scariest roller coaster in the park- The Behemoth- a ganglia of twisted metal with tiny seats that have only a waist bar, to keep you secure inside the seat. Well, let me say that I was all for it! I couldn’t wait to get on and ride. After a brief wait in line, we were locked in and moving forward. It was at this point that I realized that I wasn’t a spring chicken anymore and I started to shake. Life is short and why am I taking such risks?, thoughts ran through my head. The ride was terrifying, I’m pretty certain that I passed out for a bit. I white knuckled my way through to the end. My husband, my stepson and his friend were laughing and commenting on how much fun it was. They started getting lined up to go again. Not me… I was in, what I could only describe as, shock. I was stupefied and shaking like a leaf. I tried to talk but couldn’t. It was if my life had passed before my eyes and I took it seriously. A once loved form of entertainment had now become my greatest fear. I’m not sure what it would take me to ride a roller coaster again, I can’t fathom even considering it. However, I could possibly change my mind as my final days approach. The bucket list is still up for an edit.
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