Responsibilities

I often wonder if my leaving work to take care of my mental health was the right decision. I left work in April 2003 and it took me until fairly recently to loose MOST of the guilt for leaving work. I still struggle almost everyday with guilt about not working at something, or somewhere, but I think I have managed to almost drop the guilt about not working at the job I had.

I cannot shake the idea that I am a burden on society and that my not working is me being lazy, or not having the right direction, or simply not trying hard enough to get better. I was always an over achiever, but something happened to my ability, desire and my will to get back to work. Getting back to working seems like a completely overwhelming task.

I write this as, once again, I am dreading teaching my art classes this afternoon and tomorrow. Dr. X. says these things are work, but to me they are a tiny symbolic repayment for me and my lazy self being on disability. The volunteer work is a way for me to assuage my guilt about being paid to do nothing.

My volunteering to teach is not only that. I do also see it as behavioural therapy. Work a little and increase the work a little at a time until I can work the equivalent of at least four full time days a week for an extended period of time. When I can do that I feel I will be ready to work again.

The problem is my volunteering is only 2.5 hrs/two days a week and it completely exhausts me. Takes me down to the point that I am wondering if I should do it next term. Right now I am going to sleep for a few hours before my afternoon class. I feel like it is the only way I will manage to get there. That and the fact that I have responsibilities to go.

Responsibilities MAKE me do things. My puppy is a huge responsibility, but a good one. The puppy responsibilities, like feeding, cleaning, walking, training, socializing, and basically helping the puppy become a healthy, well behaved dog, are not always responsibilities I want to take on, or that I feel prepared for each day. There are many days when I lay in bed and wish I didn't have to get up and walk the dog, or feed the dog. However, I have no choice, unless I want to give the puppy away. That is not an option. I love him more than I dread the responsibilities. Maybe that is the key. Find responsibilities you love, more than the option of avoiding them.

On Saturday I knew I had to take my puppy out for both a long walk, and some socialization. He needs the stimulation, and the training in a stimulating environment. So I got us both in the car, and drove into the city to go to a gigantic park, with tons of off and on leash trails for dogs and people. (Although I didn't see any "on-leash" people")

There were people jogging, others walking with their kids, and we came upon a girl on a horse, and an infinite number of different breeds of dogs and their owners, both of which had equally infinite types of temperaments. It is important for my dog to meet and experience all kinds of people, see all sorts of things, experience all kinds of smells, sights, and sounds. These experiences, if they are positive, will shape who he becomes.

On the walk I brought my camera, because last time I walked through this forest I saw incredible mushrooms and other fungi...something I find intensely interesting and beautiful. I have no idea why these things capture my attention. Perhaps it is the sense that beauty can develop, grows and even thrive in an environment so full of decay. I want so badly to believe that the death of my old self, the decaying of my old life has a purpose.

I need to believe that like a dying Phoenix whose flames provide a means of rebirth to another, like the rotting leaves in the forests that provide food for the canopy above, and like the decomposing, disintegrating tree stumps that feed the birth and growth of toadstools, mushrooms and all manner of fungi, I need to believe that the change I see so much like a death in me is really a transfiguration; a metamorphosis into a life that embraces and lives a purposeful, meaningful and spiritual existence.

(All photos by Aqua)

The Photographer in Me

July 2006, In memory of my Mom the summer following her death I planted dark flowers all over my deck; almost purple/black salvia, and deep purple heliotropes and I found this deep, dark colour of nasturtiums and planted them everywhere. My Mom absolutely loved nasturtiums and I absolutely loved my Mom. I love this photo. It feels so solitary, yet peaceful.

I have a thing for fungi. I love all the different kinds of mushrooms, toadstools, and fungus I find everywhere. You have to click on this image to make it huge to appreciate the beauty and perfection of these tiny fungi.

I took this in December last year (2007). I was walking my dog Bert in the blueberry field, as I turned the corner the sky in front of me turned black, but the sun shone intensely behind me. I ran all the way back to the house (few acres) to get my camera, because the light behind me was bouncing off the the white bark of the birch trees and they were almost glowing in front of the black sky. The dark and light intensified the red in the wintering blueberry bushes, and the green of the moss. It was not quite as dramatic by the time I made it back with my camera to take the picture, but I still love the contrast and intensity of the red and green.

This is a similar shot, and only a week or so later. I liked the contrast of the dark sky against the snow and again the intensity of the fiery red blueberry bushes.

In my photography I try to relay my spiritual connection to the natural world. Nature always astounds me with her variety, her perfection and the ingenuity with which she encourages and brings things to life, but also in the beautiful ways she assists in the process of death and decay; which itself becomes imperative for her process of renewal. She is pure poetry.