Capable

I loved my word “renewal” for the summer, so I’ve decided to keep the idea rolling for the fall. I picked “capable” as my theme, because I’m returning to university two days per week to take three classes for the first time. It feels daunting to add in an extra class when I’m already writing, speaking, doing background work in the film industry plus the usual marriage/parenting/friendship gigs.

Capable seemed like the right fit to boost my confidence going into this busy three-month semester. When I choose a word, I try to get quiet, closing my eyes and allowing the right word to come to me. Capable was the first and the best. I sit with it for a bit, allowing it to permeate my mind, and if it doesn’t go away, I figure it’s meant to be.

Working on renewal this summer was a beautiful experience. When I slept in, I didn’t feel lazy, because my focus was on rest. I read, wrote, swam, and watched some incredible TV with Jason and the kids (Mindhunter, Chernobyl, Barry, Schitt’s Creek, BH90210 – okay, that last one is not incredible, just a guilty pleasure I gave as a gift to my teenage self).

I’m aiming for a similar focus this fall. So often, we are capable of much more than we think we are. I’m tired of selling myself short. I long to be intentional about my commitments and my time. When I say I’ll do something, I want to meet that challenge with courage and curiosity. I want to believe I’m capable before I start, so I’m hoping this word will help me move closer to this goal.

As we all turn the page on summer and look to the fall, may we feel capable and strong. We can do more than we think we can. Now is the time to set our intentions and then rise to meet the challenges that will come our way. If you need a cheerleader, I’m here to stand beside you and remind you of how capable you are. When I’m knee-deep in homework and tests I might need you to return the favour. Here’s to fall!

Summer

Summer

About this time of year I usually feel conflicted. I’m excited about the leisurely pace of summer and a break from the usual school year routine, but I also hate the idea of giving up my solitude when kids are home every day.

For her grade 10 year, Ava has made the decision to try online schooling instead of attending every day. She’s a motivated student who wants to be able to work more in film, TV and theatre so hopefully this path will be a good one for her to try. This means that Ava will be working at home with me when she’s not on set or auditioning. I’m realizing that I will need a bit of time to adjust to this concept.

I know I’m not alone in feeling melancholy at the end of June. I’ve spoken to many other parents who also experience this catch in the throat when you consider just how fast the years are flowing by. We had dinner with friends this weekend who have two kids the same ages as ours, and around the table we exclaimed, “Can you believe the girls only have 3 years of high school left?”

As parents, you know somewhere in the back of your mind that the day is coming when you will put yourself out of a daily job. But it arrives so slowly and with such cunning sneakiness that it still takes us by surprise. We can imagine our kids at every single stage, from a newborn in our arms to a mouthy preschooler then a twiggy elementary student and now a grown-but-not-yet-grown teenager. To them it has taken a long time. To us it has not.

Oh to love our kids enough to let them grow into who they are most meant to be without trying to force our own agendas on them. Letting go is not my strongest suit. I want to remain necessary to my kids; to continue to be vital to them. And yet they grow more independent with each passing year, sprouting wings that will one day take them far from me.

Perhaps all we can do is feel the sadness and the melancholy, and then allow a stealing sense of joy to inch into our being. To see these beloved children grow into healthy teens and then adults is the fulfillment of a dream that some parents don’t get to see, for a variety of reasons. If the goal of successful parenting is to turn a dependent baby into an independent adult, then watching that child mature over the months and years is something to be celebrated, not mourned.

All of the feelings belong. None of them are wrong or shameful. It’s important to bring them out into the light, to care for them and notice what’s working and what’s hurting. I’m going to take this summer to be aware of how fast the time is passing and to squeeze as much as I can from the time I get to spend with my kids while they are still living full-time in our house.

More card games and impromptu evening walks or swims. More laughter and hugs. Really looking at one another and listening when my loved ones are talking to me. Not just this summer, but always, for these things are the ones that really matter and will endure in our memories.

Accepting our Bodies

Accepting our Bodies

I’m working on accepting my body, exactly as it is. We live in a world where it’s all too easy to pine for a thinner frame where clothes hang a certain way and where we feel like we are winning at the game of healthy eating and exercise.

One way I’m pushing myself toward body acceptance is through the background work I’m doing as an actor in film and TV. I recently took Ava in for new headshots for her acting and I booked myself in at the same time. Choosing her new photos was fun and easy for me. Choosing mine were more challenging.

These were some of the thoughts that came up as I scrolled through my images: Do I really have that many wrinkles around my eyes? Why does my face look so puffy? I thought my skin looked smoother than that! And my arms…what the hell is going on there? They look so bulky. 

And in the few full-length shots with Ava and I together in case we get called on for mother-daughter work? Forget it. She was lovely, vibrant, healthy. I looked, um, rounder around the middle than I’d prefer to imagine I look.

I’m determined to love myself through these pictures (and updated measurements for wardrobe on the last feature film I was on). I’m not 14 like Ava is. I’m 44 and I’ve birthed two rather large children. I am worthy of love and care when I’m thinner and when I’m pleasantly plump.

Sure, these experiences could motivate me to up my game in the exercise and eating game. I am making small changes that I hope will be sustainable. I lost 30 pounds five years ago and kept it off until last fall, when the stress of my appendix rupture followed by a provincial move seemed to jettison my good habits and get my weight back to where I started. But I love the idea of being gentler and kinder to myself this time around.

Body image is a thorny issue in our world today. We seem to have polarizing views on the subject with obesity on the rise in our culture. I think the key is to cultivate love and generosity towards ourselves and others. The goal is to feel beautiful and sexy in our own skin, no matter how the number fluctuates on the scale.

It’s hard. I know it is. I’m being deliberate about working in the body-conscious film world and pushing myself to accept what I look like in photos and onscreen. I’m doing my best not to compare my arms or thighs or belly to anyone else’s. We are all different and aren’t meant to be carbon copies of each other. I have no interest in starving myself to be a size 0. But if I’m a size 14 or 16 instead of a 12, I don’t want to beat myself up over it or feel less-than in some way.

How do you manage to accept and love your body exactly as it is? I’d love to hear from you and keep the dialogue going.