Embracing interruptions

I’m away on a short vacation – interrupting my routine. While I’m travelling, I’m re-posting some old posts from my previous blog site. Enjoy.

One of the joyous frustrations of freelance writing is its unpredictable variety.

Notebook with blank pages.

I never know if I’ll be writing about money, or toilet installation, or chickens, or veterans, or crows, or . . . the list goes on. I never know when I’ll receive the last-minute phone calls. I get up in the morning with plans to do something and then, BAM, the phone rings. My whole day gets knocked sideways.

The frustration happened yesterday. The phone call came and all the things I’d planned to do and write about got swept off my calendar. It’s difficult to make firm plans. And if you ever drop by my house and see dust on the furniture, you know why.

The joy comes from learning about new things all the time. I am so lucky to never feel like I’m in a rut. I get paid to write! How great is that? 

Another joyous benefit of my freelance writing career is the reading I do on many topics. Years ago, one of those reading stints led to me this best piece of advice:

Embrace interruptions.

When I’m writing, I focus. I dive deep down into a well of creative thought and if someone speaks to me I need to swim my mind up through sludge to the surface again. I can practically hear the murky bubbles around me.

Interruptions used to drive me bonkers.

Now I tell myself: There is a purpose behind this interruption. How does it benefit me?

It gives me a chance to get a drink or go to the bathroom. It makes me notice the typo I overlooked before, once I settle back into place and look with refreshed eyes at the work I’ve done. It gives me an extra 24 hours to write a blog post.

Interruptions come in big and small sizes too.

There’s the simple, “Mom, are we out of milk?” kind of interruption, and then there’s the, “You need to take this. I’m afraid there’s bad news,” kind of phone call that knocks a life sideways for weeks, or months, or years. The big ones are harder to embrace, but perhaps it’s even more important to look for the gifts in those doozies.

There is a purpose behind your interruptions. How do they benefit you?

The beauty of making do

We replaced kitchen cupboards at our cottage on the weekend.

The old ones had been there for decades—probably since the 1950s when my father-in-law bought the place. They were functional, but not perfectly so. The drawers, without sliders, squeaked closed, wood against wood. One cupboard door was hung crooked and sprang open again if not closed with authority.

I was excited to replace the old cupboards with units that had proper shelving and drawers the slid home easily with a quiet thunk at the end.

And then we took the old ones apart.

Those gliders on the wooden drawers? Hockey sticks. (Canadian stereotype alert!)

The side panels were pieces of used decorative paneling (that I suspect he picked up for free from a discard pile somewhere). Every screw used to cobble the whole thing together was different. He’d obviously empty every jar of used screws in his work shed.

  • Hockey stick gliders
  • Decorative panel drawers
  • The place where every used screw in his wood shed found a home.
  • It’s possible that no new wood used in the entire structure.

We bowed down to the skillful frugality of my father-in-law, the King of Making Do. What we found behind the smooth white front was a masterpiece of creative re-purposing that gave new meaning to the term “custom kitchen.”

He was teenager during the Great Depression and those years of poverty marked him. He lived Refuse, Reduce, Reuse, Re-purpose, Recycle before it became an environmental mantra.

It was marvelous. And so beautiful.

Syd, if you’re out there somewhere, I hope you know that I am bowing down to your work and the beauty of making do.

Bank of lower kitchen cabinets
The new look: Functional yes, but not NEARLY as interesting.

The beauty of ew

A model tall ship covered in dust

I attended an afternoon event held at a venue usually reserved for nighttime activities. As I stood listening to speeches, I looked up at this tall ship on a high shelf, lit by a combination of daylight and interior lighting that would not normally be on when customers were in the establishment.

I was struck by both the beauty and the ew factor. In fact, the beauty is made possible because of the ew factor.

Without the dust on the delicate strands of rope on the foundering ship the effect of the light would be less striking.

Something that needed cleaning up had been hidden and ignored. Light made things clear, and somehow beautiful.

The idea helps me this week. The lesson “sailed to me” when needed, as they so often do. I hope it helps you too.

Heart engrained

Heart-shaped grain in the wood of a casket with two red roses.

I was a pall bearer for my aunt last week, so I had a close-up view of the heart that was a natural part of the grain of her casket.

I was told that this casket was not the kind that she had picked, but was substituted instead.

Just goes to show . . . Some things work out even better than we plan, when our plans go awry.

Woman surrounded by a group of people watching her play the guitar.
My aunt in her favourite place – the centre of it all.

So THAT’S what happens: Being at peace with life

Sometimes it’s difficult to find peace when nasty surprises upset our lives. Sometimes it’s even a challenge to savour fun events or exciting bonuses.

We waste time evaluating whether something is “good” or “bad.” We forget to head straight to accepting what is.

And appearances can be deceiving. Events that appear catastrophic at first can lead to unforeseen good fortune. Other occurrences that strike us as boundless good luck turn out to be the opposite.

All of us would love to have 100 percent control over what happens in our lives. But we don’t. Unplanned events inevitably derail our plans.

When that happens to me, I try to remember to rise above it and survey everything as an impartial observer. I try to view whatever comes—no matter what it is—as a big, welcome surprise.

“So THAT’s what happens!”

Stuck in the slow line at the grocery store? So THAT’S what happens! A winning goal for your hockey team in overtime? So THAT’S what happens! You’re fired? So THAT’S what happens!”

It’s easier to be at peace with unforeseen twists of fate — illnesses, riches, petty disagreements, journeys, friends, deaths or births — if all of them, no matter what , are viewed as big, welcome surprises.

So THAT’s what happens! Surprise!

I wonder what happens next?

An arrow pointing to the right with the word Next on it