In Between Seasons

I'm somewhere in the middle of catching up with myself. The last few days have felt busy and full. I am home again now, but I don't feel fully settled yet. Some things are still moving through me while other things have stayed the same. Things are shifting, but not fully. I noticed how much can happen in a few ordinary days. I am still me. I still need rest. I still come back to familiar routines. But something feels a little different too.

Maybe that was the theme of the weekend without me realizing it at the time. Everything felt a little in-between. I was happy to get away, but happy to come home too. I was tired, excited, overwhelmed and interested all at once.

Of all the things I've gone through this month, one thing I'm certain of is that I like my home. Messy as it gets sometimes, I am always glad to get back here. Home feels familiar in a way that few other places do. It feels settled, even when I don't.

This weekend in the GTA with E and GD#1 was busy. We spent so much time in malls. Have you ever noticed that most malls have nearly double the amount of clothing stores as they have anything else? Every time I go to Dixie Outlet Mall in Mississauga I see acres of clothing stores, but then it is a discount mall. I saw so many things I wanted to buy. It's not like I don't have a lot of clothes already, but something about walking into that mall and seeing floral patterns everywhere made me very happy. Nearly every store I walked into had at least one item I liked, and sometimes three or four.

I could have spent a lot of money in them. I didn't though, because E over the years has instilled in me the desire to look at all the offerings before I buy a thing. So instead of coming out with a dozen new dresses, I only got one. It's a medium so I'm not sure how well it will fit, but I loved the pattern so much that I decided to get it anyway. Looking back now, I think that was another little in-between place. Wanting things, but being more careful. Loving something enough to bring it home, but still wondering if it will fit me the way I hope it will.

We went to Square One, but after spending a few hours at Dixie I decided to have a nap while GD#1 explored it for the first time with E. We ate at Mandarin. If you ever get the chance, go to a Mandarin. They have a buffet-style menu that caters to every taste from the most stringent vegan to the confirmed meatatarian. With everything you can eat for a fixed price, even the money isn't really an issue. You can get lunch for $25.99 and dinner for $35.99 most days, though holidays are a bit more expensive. Mind you, for holidays they also add holiday-specific foods to the menu so it's worth it.

It was a little strange this time, but it really proves the point about the value there. There was a baby shower happening in the room beside the one we were in. It was loud enough that you could almost feel like you were part of the celebration even if you weren't in the room. There had to be twenty or thirty people in there including kids. Like I said, if you ever get the chance, go to one.

The next day we went for a walk on Queen Street West. It is one of the oldest areas in the city and the architecture is fabulous. One of the iconic places on the stretch we walked was the Drake Hotel. I didn't get to have lunch there because it can be a bit pricey, but maybe next time. I went to two stationery stores (The Paper Place & Paper Plus Cloth) and picked up some scrapbook supplies. They really are one of my happy places. I could lose myself in one for hours, but E & GD#1 were with me, so I could only indulge a little. We had gelato after the first half of the walk. From Queen Street West we went to First Markham Place specifically to a shop called Oomomo, which had a stationery section that rivaled the other shops we visited, but with much better prices.

Not everything about the weekend sat as lightly as floral dresses and scrapbook supplies though.

The weekend had a couple of emotional incidents as well. I finally got around to telling GD#1 why I make excuses for my son and it made me cry. I don't want to go through it again; suffice it to say my boy got very sick when he was nine months old and it caused changes inside his brain, making him look normal but leaving him developmentally delayed. As he gets older the difference between his physical age and his mental age becomes more apparent.

It is another one of those things I don't usually tell because why? What difference would it make? Except now I feel like I don't really have a choice because people are becoming more aware of his differences, and I won't stand people being angry at him for something he can't help.

One other incident caused me to have a bit of a meltdown. E was being stupid and so was GD#1, steering me around and pulling me along as if I was a child. I move where I want and I don't go around people or wait for them to pass me. I own the path as much as they do, and perhaps a bit more since I am a senior. It irritated me to no end because it made me feel like a child on a leash, and I hate seeing that. Why would I want to be that?

Maybe being between seasons isn't really about weather at all. Maybe it is being considered old and frail when I'm not. Maybe it is about the stage of life as much as it is spring drifting into summer or, in my case, autumn fading into winter. Maybe it is that feeling that I have many years ahead and I want to make the best of them. Some things are changing. Some things are staying the same. I still need rest. I still come back home and feel relieved when I walk through the door. I am still learning to be myself, and that is okay.

🌸Spring Emerging

This is the last post for March, and spring has started to show up in small ways.

I saw a robin at the beginning of the month. This week, the geese came back. Now I’m waiting for the buds and the dandelions.

 

It doesn’t happen all at once.

And I think that’s what this month has been like for me too.

When I started this series, I didn’t expect it to be this hard—or this revealing. I thought I would see progress clearly, something I could point to and name.

But what I’m noticing instead is quieter than that.

The days don’t feel quite as heavy. There are moments where my energy lifts just enough for me to notice it.

Not a big change.
Just something beginning.

This month didn’t go the way I planned.

I thought I could handle more—two Aquafit classes, a couple of studio classes—but it didn’t take long to realize I wasn’t there yet. One week of that was enough to put me out of commission for the next.

So I adjusted.

By the end of February and into March, I was down to one class a week.

Not what I wanted—but something I could actually sustain.

And it worked.

I kept going. I learned the routines. I started to feel a little stronger. It got easier to move around the house.

More importantly, I showed up.

Every week. Even on the days I didn’t feel like it. Even on the days where I spent more time arguing with myself than getting ready.

I still went.

And somewhere along the way, that started to matter more than how much I was doing.

It’s only been three months, but something has shifted.

 

Not in a big, obvious way. But enough that I can feel it.

I’m a little stronger. I have more energy around the house. Things that felt impossible a few months ago don’t feel quite as heavy now.

My blood sugar and blood pressure are slowly coming down. The pain days and low days are still there—but not as often.

And I’m learning.

I’m getting better at reading my body. Knowing when to keep going and when to stop. Accepting that just because my mind wants to push doesn’t mean my body can.

That alone has made a difference.

But the biggest change hasn’t been physical.

It’s been the arguing.

For months, every class meant hours of back and forth in my head. By the time I got there, I was already worn out.

I still showed up. But it was hard.

Somewhere around the equinox, that started to shift.

I decided I was done with the fight.

I’m going to that class. Once a week. That’s it.

And without that constant argument, everything feels a little lighter.

Not easy. Just easier.

March always carries a certain weight for me.

My mother’s birthday falls near the end of the month, and even now, years later, I find myself remembering. The sadness has softened, but the reflection is still there.

We were just beginning to repair our relationship when she passed. I didn’t understand then what my father meant when he said we were too much alike.

I understand it now.

When I think about endurance, I don’t think about pushing harder anymore. I think about staying. About continuing, even when things aren’t ideal, even when the pace is slow.

That kind of steadiness matters more to me now than effort for the sake of effort.

The equinox felt like a turning point—not because anything suddenly changed, but because I made a decision.

I’m done fighting with myself.

I will show up. Once a week. That’s enough.

And for the first time in a long time, I’m actually proud of that.

As March comes to a close, I’m not starting over.

I’m choosing what comes with me.

I’m carrying forward what I’ve learned about my limits—how to work within them instead of against them.

I’m keeping the consistency. One class a week. Movement where I can.

I’m continuing to learn—about my body, how I think, and even small things like French and the programs I use every day.

What I’m not carrying forward is the constant self-doubt.

I’m not arguing with myself every time I need to leave the house. I’m not expecting perfection. And I’m not measuring progress by how much I can do in a day.

That hasn’t worked.

What does work is steadiness.

Right now, I feel more stable than I have in a long time. Not perfect—but steady enough to build on.

And that’s what I want to protect.

With the ice and snow receding, I find myself wanting to be outside more.

I may not be ready for more than one class a week, but walking is different. It’s something I can do at my own pace.

So for April, I’m keeping things simple.

I’ll continue with my weekly class, and maybe add a second—Chairfit, Tai Chi, or yoga. Nothing fixed yet, just options.

Alongside that, I want to move outward a little more.

I’ve been collecting ideas for small adventures—things I can do close to home, at my own pace. Not all at once. Just something to look forward to.

Walking. Exploring. Taking photos again.

Those are things I used to enjoy.

And they feel like a good place to begin again.

Not with pressure.
Just with curiosity.

 

This month didn’t give me a clear result.

What it gave me was something quieter.

A better understanding of what I can sustain. A little more strength. A little less resistance.

Spring doesn’t arrive all at once.

It shows up in small ways.

And right now, that’s where I am too.

Not starting over.
Just beginning to unfold.