On my way to work one morning I began to wonder if I had ever described the trip to work. It is a mix of majestic nature and urban efficiency that is so common here. I mean, not everyone can say they pass a small waterfall and an international airport everyday going to work. Although I see the signs everywhere, I am still waiting to see a moose. I have seen the ears and the top of the head of one, but I don't really count that as "seeing a moose". NBF reminds me to be careful what I wish for because car moose incidents heavily favor the moose. So I guess I will wait until a moose decides to grace me with its presence. There are a couple of times along the trip that I pass through tunnels that are longer than the longest tunnels in the US but are considered short in the Norwegian tunnel system. The tunnel entrances and exits are the most light I see some days. When school started I would watch the sunrise over the mountains and watch the steam gather on the water's surface in the valleys. Now I can watch the sunset and the fog settle on the drive home. Winter brings much shorter days and of course cloudy days that hide some of the precious little light we do get. There will come a day very soon when I open my weather and see the sunrise and sunset on the screen at the same time. That means these days a late departure from work results in a drive home in the dark! Norwegians know how to balance this though. And sometimes, the dark simply makes some of the sights along the way even better. For instance, on foggy mornings, I can see the runway lights glowing through the fog. Different conditions and colored bulbs in the Kepler Star make it a wondrous view some mornings; not to mention it comes into full view when you are driving over a light lined overpass. Seeing the magenta beams emanating from the star diffused in the fog one time is enough to know you will never capture the view in photo and that you are lucky to see it in person. When I get to work, the sights change but the spark of wonder is still there. I have spoken before about how working in a school helps you keep your wonder, but this year is even better. My school is in the same building as a Norwegian Barnehage. While barnehage is most often translated as kindergarten, that is misleading from an American perspective. I would liken it to a mix of daycare and preschool. There are different groups of kids (barn) from those in diapers to those who are ready to leap into school the next year. Just an FYI for my American readers, in Norway school enrollment is based on the year of birth, so all students in first grade this year were born in 2015. There are many times I catch myself watching the happenings next door to see what lessons I can learn from the people at the barnehage, including the kids. I remember one day in particular, there was a little one who was all of maybe two, but he was carrying his own bag of supplies. It was nearly as big as he was, and since he was bundled up for rainy weather, his running was more like tottering down the path. Dad followed behind but without the same enthusiasm for arrival as this little one who at one point stopped and turned to see dad, noticing that dad was walking, resumed his unbalanced gait and was inside the building giggling before dad was near the door. Unpacking this scene actually reveals tidbits about Norwegian culture. First of all, I would say just as many dads drop off and pick up kids as moms. Every adult's time is valued here and there is no greater expectation on either gender to carry the workload in parenting. In fact, there might actually be more dads many days. Kids are taught independence is to be valued at a young age. Would it be faster to carry the bag for the toddler or for that matter the kid and all? Of course, but what does that teach the kid about being prepared? One only needs to watch young kids get ready to go outside to see if they have a Norwegian parent or a parent that truly embraces Norwegian cultural norms around child independence. But then I also see complete and utter meltdowns in the barnehage. Kids carry big emotions you know and it isn't always easy to communicate or get what you want. The adults are content to let the kids express themselves and give them a chance to solve the crisis on their own. It is very different than the helicoptering I am accustomed to witnessing. It does make we wonder though...At what age do we decide one must repress these big emotions and carry on like everything is fine when in fact it feels like you are standing in a dumpster fire watching those around you pour gasoline and pass around matches? Now, I am not advocating for adult throwing themselves on the floor and screaming but surely there is some middle ground. When we push these feelings down and ignore them, that becomes how we deal with issues. We ignore instead of dealing and coping. I will deal with it later in adult life really means...I hope this never comes up again because it will be harder to push down next time. It isn't just frustration that pours out of these kids though. You see the full range of how their days are going from enthusiasm to boredom and anger to glee. Maybe I am just jealous that we adults need to guard ourselves so much more. Then again, it is probably a good thing I am not allowed to ask people "what in the actual fuck is your thought process right now?" at work because I would probably always be one smart ass answer away from cracking open cans of whoop ass. The enthusiasm though...When the wind is blowing so that both flags are whipping, the kids will stop to watch. Playing music at recess is enough of a difference to get them back to playing like they have never seen this playground before. The little ones squealed with triumph the first day they came to the CIS playground because it was big kid territory they were invading. They chatter nonstop when they see the musical instruments hanging in the hallway. And if you have never seen a barnehage kid ride a tricycle while screaming at the sky, then you haven't seen pure Norwegian unbridled joy. For the record, they LOVE to ride these tricycles. There are places for passengers to ride or carry cargo. The barnehage has a "fueling" station and a road markings painted on the sidewalk. Riding is serious business. So much so that two little ones, upon discovering the gate was not secure, made a break for it, passengers and all, and rode for a couple kilometers down the road before they were discovered. Trash day is another of those beloved events in the barnehage. I have witnessed this on four occasions now and it never gets old. When the barnehage kids play outside, they all wear reflective neon vests so they are easy to spot. When the trash truck pulls into the lot, you can see the little cluster of neon forming and other neon streaks as they run to join the group. Soon, there is a buzzing line of neon along the fence fascinated by the truck. One time I was close enough to hear the excited chatter and see the pointing. They stay put the entire time even waving as the truck leaves, and then the neon blob slowly disperses. It is thought provoking. I was caught off guard by the thought of wondering how long it had been since I felt the need to run into work because I simply could not wait to be there. That one stung, because I can remember days of being so excited to get to school I was pacing waiting for the kids to arrive to experience the goodness I had planned for the day. Of course, when this school year began I was excited for my staff to feel the same way, but that quickly gave way to a ton of tasks taking my attention. I want that back. So today I will spend some time thinking about what will make me as enthused and enthralled as a barnehage kid standing at the fence on trash day.
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I am watching the hills get white this morning, and NBF is talking about winter tires again. Yesterday we took a road trip to do some photography and walking, and I reluctantly added a second layer. There is starting the car early and ice scraping in the mornings before work now as well. The drive to work is completely dark, and the sunset begins before I leave. Sigh....insert GoT quote here. Although I really enjoy autumn and the run up to winter, this time of year has always been demanding for me. The loss of my grandparents in November and son in December was really heavy for a long time. It took me down treacherous paths with thorns and near impassable places. I also survived significant psychological trauma in my life that left me with permanent challenges to adapt to, including Seasonal Affective Disorder. Some years are better than others, but I can already tell this will be a challenging winter for me. If I am going to get a grip on this year, then I really need to lean into what works and push back those bad habits that leave me in the muck, fighting suffocation but not making progress.
Perhaps part of what makes this year so bad is that the last two years have been the best in a long time. Hard to believe that two years of life going pretty well can dull the memory that much, but it has. So, this perception shift is the first thing making this winter seem worse than it really is. My anxious mentality prods me to believe that this is simply the tip of the iceberg and that certainly more is to come instead of allowing me to believe that minor setbacks are really the norm for life for all of us. Even more hard to believe is that old habits and thinking, even destructive habits and patterns of thought, that served me in the past are so easy to slip back into. I've seen the progress in my life, and yet, here I stand at this struggle, ready to willingly embrace the ineffective tools of past years. I do have to give myself some credit for doing as well as I have through the pandemic, family issues including death, serious illness, and separation, a change of job, and moving in with NBF. But good reasons or not, the reality is, I am struggling. First of all, overeating is the most socially accepted and encouraged form of self harm that exists. We have built a culture around shared meals, coffee dates, and feeding people as an act of love. That tried and true crutch has become a constant companion for me again. I had really thought I had cast aside this particular crutch to walk on my own. Part of the issue is living with a family again. Let me be clear, I am in no way blaming the family for my lack of diligence only highlighting that this complicates matters greatly. It's easy to enjoy a couple of beers. Who doesn't love cookies? Dinner is the only time of day when the entire family is together, so skipping dinner to go for a walk as I would living alone is not really an option. While the idea of just sitting and chatting instead of eating seems the logical answer, that implies I also have the necessary willpower. My history with food and body image is complicated, and quite possibly the most important place for me to start regaining my equilibrium. Making this even worse, is that I KNOW the answer, maybe not the how but the basic formula. I have faced this monster before so I am extremely disappointed in myself that I let it get here yet again. I am still waiting for NBF to show his "true colors" and snap when I voice my opinion or grab me to shake some sense into me. In my darkest days, I am convinced he doesn't know what he signed up for. As bizarre as this sounds, I crave the volatility because at least I have the playbook, and I know how to respond. Knowing this and voicing it, causes my heart to ache. Having rational conversations that don't erupt into hurt feelings or worse is uncharted water for me in this type of relationship. It ultimately creates the opposite effect than you would think, making me more uneasy and watchful. I even found myself apologizing for going shopping without leaving a note. Where in the actual fuck did that come from?? OK, I know where, but I was more shocked than he was to hear it I think. Unfortunately, exposure and practice are the only remedy. I have been purposeful about not intentionally saying hurtful things. I know this because of how much I have overthought and played the conversation outcomes in my mind. But I do see that I have postponed important conversations. The result of these postponements is that I am highly stressed and at the end of my ability to remain silent by the time I find the courage to approach the situation. And the undercurrent is my worry that NBF will run out of patience before I can heal this in myself. As a family member only one generation away from the abuse cycle, I am well aware of my failings as a parent. The difference in my parenting and my parents brand of parenting is light years apart, but still I know, behavior and thought patterns are ingrained. This makes me highly insecure in my abilities and decision making. Add to this, that NBF has a completely foreign approach to parenting that challenges me to rethink decisions I made with my own children and defend others, if only silently. Many times, I am left feeling that it is not my place to speak up or have an opinion; after all, I am ONLY dad's girlfriend. You can imagine how building a relationship with a reclusive 15 year old is going for me. This undefined relationship is one of the key relationships in my life right now as we share a home, but I am utterly lost in this sea of feelings. Last in this struggle is the fact that I have isolated myself. Not all of this was done purposefully. When I changed jobs, I lost that ability to stay closely connected to many really great people. I miss them terribly some days. While I enjoy my job, there simply isn't the opportunity to be connected as closely to coworkers that can provide a friendship base. I miss Friday drinks at O'Leary's and last minute walks. All of my friendships are long distance. When you add teacher tired on top of this, the distance becomes even greater. The one glimmering hope is that now I have a car and don't have to rely on the train schedule. Some of this isolation has been done purposefully. My mother's death served to solidify the reality of losing AB. At some point, she won't be a FB message away with her sage advice or calming influence. There is no one else in my life that I am as authentically me as I am with her. Part of me wants to cling and ask and chat and soak in every minute detail, and part of me knows that this will be gone someday and I will need to be able to rely on my own sage advice and calming influence. I have to laugh because fucks sake look at the state of things now. What sage advice?? She knows there is work to be done before she is gone, and she has tended as much of the trail for me that she can. But at some point, she had to lay the hoe down and let me do the heavy lifting. Maybe the greatest realization is, we were never blazing a trail together. She was reminding me where the path of grief leads. She was clearing the way down the path we've both traveled before so that when I once again have to go, without her, I can look to the traces of her and find comfort and solace instead of raw pain and work. So what now, Nellie? I am determined to talk to myself as I would to a friend facing these struggles. I will give myself kindness and as many do overs as I need, but gently prod myself to do the things I know are important. I will remind myself that chasing and securing my happiness are not selfish behaviors but necessary behaviors and ultimately MY responsibility not only to myself but to others who love me. I will lean into the fact that I have chosen to be in a relationship with someone who isn't going to fight against my efforts to pull myself up either, but will resist the urge to let him problem solve for me. I will love myself on purpose. I know I will find balance. I have learned to trust myself that much. |
Nellie HillJust a woman leaping outside her comfort zone and telling the tale. Archives
April 2024
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