D.G. Kaye's Blog, page 182

Getting Back In The Groove Part 2- EXERCISE

Exercise. A word we are all quite familiar with but we sometimes  choose to ignore, have no time for or basically have no interest in.

I have followed an exercise routine for well over a decade now which I had incorporated into my daily routine. Now don’t misunderstand me, I have no aspirations to become an athlete or a model, I just felt as though it was good for my health and to try and keep fit with a bit of cardio and the use of resistance bands with some Pilates.

After experimenting with so many different modes of exercise, I found what was comfortable and enjoyable for me and which had good benefits for my sore lower back. Although in the beginning I found myself looking for logical excuses to avoid exercising some days, I gradually became dedicated to myself and followed through five to six days a week.

Besides my routine I have always been a fairly active person — not one to sit much. This plan seemed to get neglected and mostly ignored when I began writing my first book Conflicted Hearts. Somehow the hours turned into days then months and I was finding with the shortage of time that I was waking up and getting right to work and the span of days and sometimes weeks were passing where I was neglecting my exercise routine.

I know as the months rolled by I was starting to feel less pulled together, muffin top was trying to make a home around my waistline and I began having more problems with my sore back and hips which would occasionally decide to lock up on me. I also found that the longer I ignored exercising, the harder it became to establish a disciplined pattern again.

I still went for little walks but the days I had previously spent on my feet, had become days that I sat on my butt working. I gained four pounds in the last year without even a change of diet and my body doesn’t even resemble its former shape. I blamed being busy and post menopause, in denial that my old simple little half hour exercise routine now lacking, certainly couldn’t be the cause of all the changes.

I thought back to when I was exercising. It had become so effortless that I was sure it wasn’t even doing anything much for me anymore without realizing it was that very routine which had kept me feeling good and my clothes fitting properly. It had become simply taken for granted.

Moving forward, I had begun to do some of the other little things I also engaged in as part of my old routine like lifting some light weights and occasionally picking up my hula hoop once in a while which I used to do for twenty minutes daily. I used to do all kinds of moves with that hoop and could keep that baby up and moving for as long as I wanted to without dropping it once.

When I returned from my winter vacation and re-organized my daily work schedule, I promised myself that I was going back to a committed routine to help me feel fitter. I implemented a morning routine once again before beginning my work because I decided it was important and I owed it to myself. No more sporadic, spare moments of exercise and broken promises I told myself each time I stepped on the scale. I picked up the hula hoop which I hadn’t used for months and in disbelief, I struggled to keep it going steady without it continuously falling to the floor. I was shocked that my auto pilot ability to manipulate that hoop had gone rusty. Then I attempted to follow through with my Pilates program which I had previously considered so effortless only to find that each move felt torturous to my abs.

Wow I thought, holy crap am I ever out of shape! What a wake up call this was. How easy it is to assume that things remain a constant because we take them for granted. Life moves on and if we neglect our bodies, they don’t come along for the ride. Lessons learned.

It’s only been two weeks now that I have disciplined (and scared) myself into a regular routine. Although I still panic when I look at the clock, knowing I should be working, I realize I am working. I am working on me! I am important to me and although I impose my own deadlines and have to deal with life’s punches in between, I decided to enjoy my fitness break and if it helps me feel better and motivated to continue on with everything else, it was important time spent.

I am also happy to report that I am once again in control of the hula hoop and my resistance Pilates isn’t nearly as painful – almost like riding a bike. With a little more practice and dedication we can accomplish what we thought was once lost. I have definitely learned not to take my body for granted. After all, I need it to work well for lots of things. In the past I thought I wasn’t doing much because I was so used to feeling good and fit but when I stopped, I found the benefits I had lost by not realizing the way I was before was because of the benefits of exercising.

Let us not get so busy that we forget to take care of us!

Createspace for Self Publishing and Sticky Royalty Payments for Canadian Authors

I’ve got this nagging peeve that I wanted to use my page here to beef about. It has to do with the royalty payment structure Createspace uses with Canadian authors. I find it quite unfair.

The situation is this: When a Canadian author self publishes a paperback version of their book with Createspace, we aren’t given the option for Direct Deposit for royalties accumulated. Our only option is to be paid by cheque…and their is a HUGE drawback. Royalties paid to Direct Deposit accounts are paid soon after royalties accrue past ten dollars, pounds, euros, depending on the currency books were purchased in. If you don’t have a Direct Deposit account, us Canadian authors have to wait until $100 is accrued in royalties in each currency to be paid by cheque.

When I first published with Createspace I wasn’t too thrilled about the lack of option for Canada but I had no choice if I wanted to publish there. When my book Conflicted Hearts came out I had sold some paperback copies through there as I was told it may take a week until the paperback version would be linked to the ebook version on Amazon. After Amazon linked the two versions it was much easier for people to purchase the paperback from Amazon than emailing me for a link where they could buy it elsewhere. Hence, all my paperbacks sold after the initial release of my book, had been sold off Amazon.

I am not one of the author types who checks her sales hourly or even daily on either site and quite frankly, when I visit my Createspace sales page, it just seems to light a fire in me. I had often emailed Createspace asking them why on earth they don’t have a Direct Deposit option for Canada, yet they have one for such countries such as U.K., Netherlands, Portugal, France and a few more. I mean geez, we are part of North America? The same responses came back with the usual, “We are sorry we don’t have that option now.” After awhile I would abandon my frustration and try not to think about it. So maybe once a month I pop by my page there to visit my $78 being held ransom until I hit the $100 mark so I can have my funds.

Today was one of those days I visited again and it pissed me off enough to write about it. I just don’t get it. I don’t think it’s fair and as an author I am trapped at their mercy.

I wanted to post about this, not only to vent (yes, it feels good!) but  also to put an awareness out for those who may not be quite aware of how the system works. I have given up emailing Createspace and have learned from this and being that I cannot change their policy, I came up with a little resolution of my own.

There are two ways I can reach this threshold, one is a temporary method, the other will be implemented after my next book comes out. For the time being, I have added a “buy” link to my Conflicted Hearts page here. This will allow anyone who visits that page to purchase it directly from Createspace by the click of a button without having to surf around and look for the link. As soon as I reach that threshold, I will be removing that link and won’t worry about royalties from there any longer.

In the event that I still don’t meet the threshold by this method, I will wait for the release of my new book next month and give the link only to the few family and friends who are awaiting my book’s arrival and then I will only be using the site to order my own copies from…like I should have done in the first place had I not been a first-time author still learning the tricks of the trade.

I think the excitement of being a first-time author made me overlook some details that would bite me down the road with the excitement of incoming emails of those who know me not wanting to wait for a few more days for the paperback to come out on Amazon. Next time I will know better. I will follow my plan, get my royalties and this little aggravation will be over.

Have any of you faced this problem?

 

Why You Should Walk Away From Your Writing – Helping Writers Become Authors

Reblogged from K.M. Weiland’s blog

 

We have all heard it before, but do we all follow the advice? Do we know when to take a break from our manuscripts? Sometimes we tend to force ourselves to continue writing when our brains don’t wish to cooperate.

K.M. Weiland wrote a great post to remind us how to take a step back and how to regenerate our creative juices. In her blog she shares a handy checklist on why we need to walk away from our work and ideas for awhile, and she also talks about  how to get back to it with a rested mind.

See the full post on her blog linked below:

 

Why You Should Walk Away From Your Writing – Helping Writers Become Authors.

Thankful for new Blogging Awards

As bloggers we love to share our words and thoughts with others, sometimes just sharing information and at other times we may even bear our souls on our pages. The wonderful thing about blogging is the great community of support we receive from each other. It is always encouraging to know that someone out there either enjoyed our words or took something from them. With this being said, I would like to thank www.mytrainofthoughtson.wordpress.com for her consideration of me for nominating me for two awards.

In appreciation of receiving these awards, the rules are to nominate others in recognition of their work, list seven things about myself, post the awards and always link back in gratitude to the person who awarded you.

 

7 Things About me:

1. I am an eternal optimist

2. I am always writing something in my head

3. I love to shop (a huge weakness)

4. I feel compelled to find ways to solve other people’s problems

5. I love playing poker

6. I am fascinated with biographies

7. I am always planning my next vacation. I love to travel.

 

I WOULD LOVE TO NOMINATE THESE PEOPLE FOR THEIR LOYALTY IN READING:

Coastalmom

Themockingbirdinme

Carol Balawyder

Diane Tibert

Elaine Mansfield

Poetic Parfait

Aquileana

Littlewritingsblog

Reconstructing Christina

 

Hint of Spring

 

It was officially declared spring last week, March 21st, but I think it is more a legend at present with a false sense of belief.

We endured a most brutal winter with consistent below zero temperatures and we have had our fair share of ice storms and blizzards. We also experienced two or three reprieves — false starts where the odd day in March hit over the freezing mark. For those of you who didn’t live Toronto’s cold winter, those above zero temps felt almost  like summer to us here.

Those very few days were short-lived as another storm would soon blow in the next day and we were once again back to below zero.

The first day of spring was zero degrees and it snowed for the better part of the day. The five foot drifts of shoveled snow remained piled against the curbs as though they had no knowledge that spring had arrived.

With no hint of grass, snow-laden roofs remained, and not a bird was in sight. Of course the birds have known all along that it wasn’t time for their return.

This morning when I woke, I opened the curtains and was pleasantly surprised to see the sun looking back at me. When I sat down with my coffee in tow and began writing, I heard an unfamiliar sound. It was coming from my backyard, so I got up and followed the sound.  It lead me to my kitchen window when I realized it was the chatter of birds. The sun was shining, the snow still blanketed over the trees and the shed; yet the birds had come.

I couldn’t help but wonder if they had an internal clock, alerting them when it was the best time to arrive back for spring; or if they were perhaps just passing by to say hello.

 

 

The Haze

As we watched you sleep, far in distance, in another sphere,our own thoughts took us somewhere to a place in our hearts where we held you dear.

I cannot help but wonder where your thoughts went in your silent slumber, and if you weren’t fully aware when you came back for sporadic moments.

Perhaps you were caught in the realm of between two worlds. Your body ached to go to that world of comfort, yet your soul reminded you to check in with the living whom surrounded you.

Were you waiting for the proverbial phrase, “It’s okay to let you go?” Were we the selfish in withholding those words in last efforts to cling on to your every breath?

I was weak and found I could not utter those words, although silently, I prayed for your release.

What were you thinking? What did you wish to say when I watched your dire efforts on occasion to speak, while in concentrated efforts I struggled to decipher your words?

Dad held your hand in your final moments, surrounded by the family who loves you. You waited, fighting for each breath so everyone could be there to send you off with love.

Sleep in peace little girl and leave your worries behind, for we shall take care for you as you journey toward heaven.

*******************

The journey was long as we watched you suffer. The first day of spring came, and with it came more snow and frigid temperatures.

The next day came and after so long, the sun shone through your window. The winds had calmed and so had your pain. Only hours later you were taken in the still of the calm and with our tears.

Yesterday we laid you to rest. Once again the sun shined bright and although still cold, the air was calm.

We left you at your final resting place and as the priest read us words of solace, the wind picked up in a furious cycle and a swirling blizzard suddenly blew from the sky, bringing with it a rapid drop in temperature.

We were already numb with grief, yet that chilling snowstorm had us all shivering to the bone. I turned to Dad and said, “That was our girl going out in a flurry, the same way she had lived her life.”

We drove off in the limo and within a half hour, the sky had cleared, the winds had passed, the snow no longer shed its sadness and the sun reappeared.

 

Thank You

I just wanted to stop my place here briefly to thank so many of you in our blogging community for your kindness and heartfelt wishes and prayers at this difficult time. Please know how much your thoughtfulness and kind words have been appreciated.

I shall be back to regular programming in a few days and I look forward to coming back here with you all and catching up on my reading on all of your beautiful blogs.

Thank you.

D.G.

For My Daughter

Fly like a butterfly my sweet Susie Q. I pray that God took you by the hand and took you with him to the world of peace, love and no more pain.

You were my step-daughter and my friend. You were your father’s daughter. You were a daughter, a sister, a mother and a friend. You never questioned, angered or cried.

You lived everyday with optimism and a busy social calendar. You loved your children fiercely and you were daddy’s girl.

You never left my door or hung up a phone without saying ‘I love you’, every time we said good-bye.

Thank you for always calling me your ‘sparkly’ step-mother even though we were barely two years apart.

I will always remember you Sue for being the first one to accept me into your family. You were so happy for your father and you and I grew an instant bond.

I will always remember your beautiful smile, your love to laugh and I will miss our long private talks and your presence in my life. I love you Susie Q. May God Bless You. xoxoxoxoxo

DENIAL – HOPE AND ACCEPTANCE – LOSS

 

I love to come here to my space and share my thoughts with all of you and athough I am always sincere and sometimes opinionated, I don’t often share my deepest feelings of inner conflict here. As time progresses though, I have noticed that many bloggers sometimes do share their woes and bear their souls out loud with no regard for judgement or embarrassment  when exposing their raw feelings. Bloggers are like having an extended circle of family-like friends. We speak freely and receive feedback with encouragement and support for one another. So it is with this realization I have decided to share a bit of what is going on in my life.

I suppose that only now I feel comfortable talking about a tender topic of terminal illness. Perhaps after having read many articles and books on grieving and loss, particularly the writings of two writer friends works that I respect: The blog of Elaine Mansfield who writes on bereavement and author Carol Balawyder - Mourning has Broken, it has helped to open up and share.

If any of you have read my book – Conflicted Hearts, you will have read how I encountered great losses in my life when I lost my aunt who was like a mother to me and  also the loss my dear father. I don’t pretend to know anyone’s pain in loss because only those who walk in the shoes of grief can truly know how it feels. Nonetheless, I am a very empathetic person and I get very sad when I hear of or am around others who are suffering.

Although I don’t have any biological children of my own, my husband of fifteen years  has four daughters and although they still have their mother and we are all within four years apart in age, I am friends with them all and refer to them all as my step-daughters.

I couldn’t even pretend to know the pain of the possibility of losing a child; certainly I would consider that the worst death to grieve of all. No matter how old a child grows to be, it is still always somebody’s child.

We found out that my step-daughter Sue had the dreaded cancer, last July, just after her birthday. My husband is the type of man who doesn’t like to talk about bad things and if you didn’t know him, you would wonder how he couldn’t talk about his sad feelings and worries and still appear as though nothing is wrong. But I know him well. HIs mind is always going, always worrying about something, he is very driven. If there is any way to make something work, he will find it. If he can’t, he will carry his frustration within.

I have managed through the years to learn how to break into his thoughts and I know how to handle him with kid gloves in delicate situations. But I have had to make some tough decisions these past few weeks about how much I knew about his daughter’s situation and how much I wanted him to know. His faith in Sue’s healing has never unfaltered. He never believed anything other than she could beat the disease. I speak often with another daughter and we both saw the signs of unhappy things to come with her sister’s prognosis. I worry about my husband’s health and didn’t want to break his faith. I agonized over wanting to tell him the reality and burst his balloon of hope to ease the fall or to let him feel optimistic in his belief and then have to watch him crash.

His daughters and I agreed that he didn’t need the details so he wouldn’t have to worry more than he already was. As Sue remained stoic and didn’t care to talk about the inevitable, things have been drastically sliding. There are no treatments left for her and she has gotten to ill to take on a grueling round of experimental medicine. Her fragile body could not take the pummeling that she would have had to endure when the doctors hoped she may have been up to when the procedure was first introduced. Although Sue has an amazing hopeful attitude and never gives up hope, her body retaliates. She has been in and out of the hospital for several weeks now and relies on morphine to combat her pain. Even though her lymphoma had spread through her body she still had many days when she is still just simply – Sue. She never complains or laments “Why me?” and continued to push herself to go out with her friends and live.

My husband would beam with light when he’d see her and he’d say with such certainty how strong she is and his belief wouldn’t let him feel anything but that she would beat it. I questioned myself many times whether or not this was his hope or if it was denial; but I dared not ask. He never hid the fact that his daughter had cancer from anyone and he’d always add that she looks good and is fighting back.

A few days ago when he returned from visiting Sue in the hospital, my husband came home wearing a defeated new look on his face. I already knew Sue was getting much worse but I asked him how she was doing and he looked at me with a calmness and replied, “My daughter is dying.”

While I fought my tears back, I asked him to update me on what I had already known. My heart ached for him hearing him admit those words of surrender. Knowing he was trying desperately not to cry, and feeling my own grief for Sue, in that moment I couldn’t even begin to feel his pain.

In these past few days, the situation has become grave. My step-daughter is living on borrowed days. Now I just pray for strength for Sue and my husband to get through and for me to have strength to help keep him together through this very sad journey. I pray for God to give me the right words to say when the moment comes, to keep my husband here with the living as a part of his soul dies with his daughter.

As I go through this journey and go through all the cascading emotions it really makes me wonder how fine that line between life and death is and how life becomes an oxymoron. At first we pray and hope for wellness and cures and suddenly the switch flips and we find that everything we have prayed so hard for is no longer valid because when we watch that person suffer so badly and realize there is no hope, our prayers for life suddenly become prayers for God to take them safely out of their suffering.

There was a scene from the movie ‘Steel Magnolias’ that always tugged at my heart no matter how many countless times I had seen the movie. When M’Lynn’s daughter Shelby passed on and M’Lynn lost her composure at the gravesite she said:

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

I’m fine! I can jog all the way to Texas and back, but my daughter can’t! She never could! Oh God! I am so mad I don’t know what to do! I wanna know why! I wanna know *why* Shelby’s life is over! I wanna know how that baby will *ever* know how wonderful his mother was! Will he *ever* know what she went through for him! Oh *God* I wanna know *why*? *Why*? Lord, I wish I could understand!

No! No! No! It’s not supposed to happen this way! I’m supposed to go first. I’ve always been ready to go first! I-I don’t think I can take this! I-I don’t think I can take this! I-I just wanna *hit* somebody ’til they feel as bad as I do! I just wanna hit something! I wanna hit it hard!”

PLAYGROUND OF TIME

You came into this world as a bundle of joy,

Praying for health, your parents cared not whether you were girl or boy.

Frilly frocks, colouring books and dolls, a little girl’s delight,

Tender hugs and kisses comforted you when you were afraid of the night.

First swings then school and boyfriends as you grew,

Soon marriage and children became part of you.

Time doesn’t measure how many years have passed,

You are always somebody’s child no matter how far the future is cast.

Our hearts now in sorrow filled with worry and fear,

As we begin to sense that you may no longer be near.

With lost efforts parents beg, plead and pray,

For you to be healed, not to be taken away.

 

D.G.Kaye c2014