Erin's Journals

Just a thought… Some friends feel like home. Not because they fix you, but because they never ask you to be anything except yourself. You can be quiet around them. You can be tired, messy, honest. And somehow, even in your worst moments, they still choose you. That’s not ordinary. That’s something to hold close. [Author Unknown]

12 days ago my friend Lisa Brandt marked my birthday with a lovely piece she wrote about me and our friendship. Well today, just as I did nearly a fortnight ago, Lisa turns 63. I didn’t want to copy her – she is inimitable after all – so I’m launching into a haiku. I’ve never done this before, leaning more towards the lightness of a limerick. But she’s worth the challenge.

Although I don’t think it can come close to the sentiment expressed by the quote above, I’ll give this a go.

Lisa

A friend for all time

Soft of heart, wise beyond words

Her kindness heals many.

Animal lover

Stoic yet empathetic

A laugh like music.

She is a true gift

To all within her circle

Grateful are we all.

There. I tried a haiku. Besides, with a limerick do you know how FEW words rhyme with Lisa besides Pisa and Theresa???

Happy Birthday, my friend. We arrive at her doorstep on Friday morning after a red-eye from Victoria to Toronto, so our first few hours will be more nappy and less snappy, but a more wonderful Thanksgiving we could not hope for than one with Lisa and Derek.

Join Lisa and me for Ep 148 of Gracefully and Frankly and hear what she’s got in store for us! 

Just a thought… Everybody is dealing with how much of their own aliveness they can bear and how much they need to anesthetize themselves. [Adam Phillips]

I’m trying to tear my thoughts away from the Blue Jays today – but it ain’t easy! I mean, after a weekend that surpassed our hopes and just had Jays fans pinching themselves, setting and breaking records galore, it’s a long day today and tomorrow waiting for the game to start in the Bronx. Let’s hope the magic continues and we can shut down the Yankees in three. Never hurts to dream, right?

This week is a frantic one for other reasons: two sets of company coming in from Ontario for short visits, and a woman from Saskatchewan arriving tomorrow to stay at the condo with Dottie and Livi while we head east in the wee hours of Friday morning.

We’ll talk about it and our plans to get together with my podcast partner and friend Lisa Brandt and her husband Derek (who’s also a friend!), at gracefullyandfrankly.com this Thursday in Episode 147. Hope you’re a listener and you can catch up on our latest ones as we enjoy a string of really terrific shows – lots of listener calls and laughs.

Of course we get serious every now and then, too, but we try to keep things light. Stay away from politics. Veer clear of sports (as we record this Wednesday and drop on Thursday, so it’s hard to be super timely). But mostly it’s about things you care about.

The best thing about G&F is Lisa Brandt. She’s my friend, my partner in this and, of course, as I’ve often said, my Sister from Another Mister. On Wednesday Lisa celebrates her birthday, just 12 days after me, same year. That makes us both Libras, but I don’t know that Lisa has ever read a horoscope unless I’ve sent it to her!

That’s where we differ. Lisa is stoic and so much better than I at taking in the big picture while I let my thoughts keep me awake, my feelings eat at me, my moods dip lower day by day.

I’ve shared with her lately that I’ve been struggling. As requests for my services as emcee, keynote and all of those extra things that gave my life purpose and meaning are waning – as they logically should after nine years out of my work city – I’m having a hard time enjoying this new chapter.

Sure, I wrote a bestselling book and that, along with its aftermath, kept me busy for a few years. For nine months I did some freelance radio hosting in Victoria when they needed a fill-in on a Rogers station; like an idiot, I even did it for free because they’d kept me on a one-year retainer – one which ended up reducing my pension significantly. Rookie mistake, that. But now what?

I stay in touch and use social media to let my thoughts take a walk in public, but even with that I struggle: on one side I’m about peaceful sleep stories (Drift with Erin Davis) and on the other I’m a lippy, late-blooming activist who’s got strong beliefs and has her elbows locked into the upright position, which doesn’t always suit the Gracefully and Frankly brand. In public life, one’s image is supposed to be clean and clear. But who of us is that one-dimensional? And why would I be?

Anyway, as I struggle with this and the “what next?” stage in my life, and the need to run away or find new thrills when very few of them are good for me, Lisa offered me this advice: focus on being grateful. That’s how she deals with similar thoughts to those I’ve had; she finds new things to do and surrounds herself with gratitude. And I know there are a million “but what abouts?” that I could ask, but all in all, I also recognize that it was a great career, I’ve stayed in touch with some lovely people, and I’m even able to help those in grief now and then. For a time I thought my purpose would be getting to grandparent full-time, but that too has changed. I’m grateful for those three years. But now what? There’s something else out there, something big, and I just don’t know how to make it happen.

As Lisa and I both embrace our 64^th year (having turned 63 on Sept 26 as she will Oct 8) I’m taking her advice and turning more towards gratitude. I’m not going to lie down, shut up or just close up shop. But in all of this gratitude, where is the real purpose?

The running, the pursuit of thrills and things that spark all the feelings in my brain, says writer Mark Manson, are all anaesthetic. It’s so true: sometimes I’d rather not feel at all instead of finding myself grieving a child, a life, a career. But therapy and rehab helped me see the error in my ways in being comfortably numb.

So again, what next?

Well, there’s baseball tomorrow, and that’s a good thing. I’ll be with you for the game on FB again tomorrow so I hope you’ll come by for our little watch party on Facebook (first pitch just after 8 pm ET)– and GO JAYS!

Just a thought… Let’s have an adventure – just not too big of one. [Rob and me whenever we set out to do something the least bit unusual]

Yes, that’s what we say every time. On the yurt trip I took with Leslie, as we were leaving her house to head to our campsite, I said those words, and she asked, “why not?” Well, today’s journal explains “why not.”

On Thursday after Rob’s hockey, we finished loading the car and headed north on Vancouver Island for a two-hour drive to Nanaimo. From there we caught one of the frequent hybrid electric ferries that makes the 25-minute ride to Gabriola Island.

A place that is 57 sq. kilometres in size, Gabriola boasts a population of 4,000-4,500 people which, of course, balloons during the warmer months. It’s popular with artists and retirees, and is easy to get around. But I haven’t even told you the magical part of my birthday weekend.

On a lark, I booked a small pet-friendly cabin with two queen beds: a rustic-looking spot with zero reviews on VRBO. I’ve never done that; in all of the places we’ve reserved we were at least able to read about what to expect. But larking as we were, we booked. And this is what we found: a house with Rob’s initial on it!

What blew us away, apart from all of the firewood and cosy surroundings, was the spread of goodies they left for us. There was this tray on the table…

…and even in the fridge they had eggs, cheese, bacon and more.

A bag of Kicking Horse coffee awaited us, our favourite blend but one we didn’t think we’d need…until we did. More in a moment.

Rob surprised me with a short ferry trip back to Nanaimo and dinner reservations.

Coincidentally, my ticket predicted what I’d order that night!

We had just a lovely evening and returned home to the cake Rob had brought with us. Cake, adventure and romance? Sign me up! And then we hit a bit of a bump.

At about 5 am on Saturday, we awoke to silence. Our white noise on Google had stopped and Rob’s hearing aids started squealing in pain in his charger. Yes, the power was off. We went back to sleep, ready to face the challenges that morning would bring.

Five hours later (yes, five) we consulted the detailed binder on what to do in this case. Power outages are frequent during the fall and winter months on the Gulf Islands and while our number one (and, er, number two) concerns were how to get the toilet to work – and they’d left jugs of water for such a possibility – it was my yurt experience that taught us how to make coffee on a barbecue. Of COURSE our hosts had left a french press coffee maker; combined with hot water from the grill and the Kicking Horse they’d so generously left, we had a delicious few pots of good, strong coffee.

The power returned at about 1 pm, in time for us to watch the Jays beat the Rays, after which we went for a long walk towards several of the harbours and boat moorings nearby. Another highlight was seeing deer come to nosh on the apples I’d left on the lawn from nearby trees. Heavenly!

Yesterday we made our way home, unpacked the car and watched the Blue Jays in 30 on the PVR. We settled in for another week, this one including yet another ferry ride: we’re going to Pender Island today to see if we can’t find a little cottage in the woods of our own. Never mind that our house sale hasn’t yet closed – we’ll figure it all out later!

I hope you have a wonderful week. Tomorrow we’ll celebrate afar as our granddaughter turns six (and fête her for real in a few weeks when we’re there), and just settle into fall, whatever it brings.

I won’t stop hoping things will get better; I won’t stop seeking happiness both within me and outside of me. Just as I dedicated myself to walking at least 6.000 steps a day last Christmas, this week I’m making meditation more of a must-do. And if I say it here, I’m more likely to keep it up – so thank you!

Just a thought… A fallen leaf is nothing more than a summer’s wave goodbye. [Author Unknown]

As a new season arrives this morning, I’m awash in memories of the summer that was: from the events to the moments, the changes seismic and small. As we get set for the time of year blessed with colours and crispness, come with me as we look in the rearview mirror for a few minutes together, won’t you?

We began summer with a good-bye to my father. Dad lived a full and mostly healthy 92 years and he had the passing most of us would hope for: peacefully and in the care of good people, and in the hearts of his daughters. We know he and Mom are dancing together again and we feel gratitude for having had him as our dad, and Mom’s forever partner. How he’d love what the Jays are doing these days, keeping us joyfully anxious right down to the wire!

In addition to marking six years since rehab, my summer was splashed with plenty of travel (another addiction), including my first yurt experience, shared with my sister Leslie (and my enVy pillow) in Sicamous, BC. It’s honestly my happy place, where I go when I want the fondest memories.

My endeavours on a paddle board were not entirely successful, but next time I’ll choose less wavy waters. Like a kiddie pool or a bath tub. Still, it was ahhhhhh-some.

Boarding pass in hand, I enjoyed a quick baseball-filled trip to Ottawa to watch Colin’s come-from-behind team win a championship! A glorious night and a fun visit with him and Jane and their folks.

But the geographical highlight, and one that has me literally longing to return, was our drive in the EV (uneventful too, thankfully) to Alberta. From the cheapest motels to an upscale glamping experience that definitely did not deliver the vibes I enjoyed at the yurt (lesson learned!) the most peaceful moments were spent just breathing in the beauty. And there was so much to absorb.

Finally, as I told you last week, we’re still holding our breath, but Rob and I finally seem to have sold the beloved house that has been on the market for 16 months. We haven’t decided what to do with the furniture that is still in it, but we take with us the memories – joyful welcomes and tearful goodbyes – that came with our time there. It’s where I wrote Mourning Has Broken, and it’s where we began to grow our BC roots. Those roots are developing by the day and, although the winds blow us east for visits now and then, they continue to strengthen as we open yet another chapter in our post-Toronto lives.

I’m coming to peace with not being as active or in demand as I once was. It’s a tough journey, this one. I’m realizing that enriching and joyful part of my life is mostly coming to a close (except for podcasting sleep stories on Drift with Erin Davis and, of course, weekly episodes with my friend Lisa Brandt on Gracefully and Frankly).

I walk a lot each day, listen to favourite podcasts and stay in touch with people who care to come along, here and in social media. It’s not what I thought life was going to be at this soon-to-be age of 63 (this Friday), but then, when is life ever what we expect?

Have a lovely Autumnal equinox. May you find beauty and peace in the season ahead. We’ll be looking for the same things, you and I.

Just a thought… Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience. [Ralph Waldo Emerson]

In these waning days of summer, a few thoughts as we head into pumpkin-everything season.

First off, make your own pumpkin spice coffee at home and save hugely. If sugar is not your thing, stores like Winners and HomeSense carry syrups that are zero calorie. I just love them once in a while in my coffee, while the fruity ones are great paired with soda. Often on sale, they’re a lovely replacement for alcohol in the evening.

Speaking of alcohol, it was at a certain meeting that I attended on Thursday last week that I brought up the topic of “patience.” The lesson here is one that I’ve always had trouble learning; from waiting for Rob to propose for the second time (after he’d given me a ring three weeks after our first date and then gotten cold feet) to biding my time to get respect at the radio station I called home for most of my career. Both came the way I hoped, but not as fast as I’d have liked. I wish I could say LESSON LEARNED! Then wiped my hands and moved on to other tenets of peaceful living.

So it seems our house, which has been on the market since May of last year, has finally sold. After much backing-and-forthing, bending and capitulating, we’ve gotten well below what we’d hoped for, but about what I guess one can expect in such a slow market in our price range. There was one previous offer which was so low that we basically signed it back with a number that equalled an eye-roll. The old real estate saw is that “your first offer is most often your best” but we put that saying aside and went with our guts. The second offer wasn’t perfect, but we just can’t with the bridge financing, the ups and downs and the mental toll that having a place on the market takes.

And so, before I head off to Mexico for a few months in November, we will have said good-bye to what we (once again) thought was our “forever home.” Just as we thought with the house we built from the ground up in Jackson’s Point, just north of Toronto, we could have gone out with toe tags on. But as in the case of losing Lauren and having dreams up-ended, the emotional weight this time of not having our boisterous grandkids bounding about was too much to carry. So we did what we do: we left.

We found a condo perfect for us and moved into slowly-bustling Sidney-by-the-Sea. Except for them flying the US flag this summer, it’s been just perfect, and but for the timing on the house sale, a solid decision.

So now we move on – both literally and figuratively.

Have I learned my lesson about patience? I’d like to say I have. I’m coming to the realization that my media career is ending: the speaking demand – via video and in person – has dwindled to nothing (which I expected) and I’m digging deep to find a purpose in this new chapter in my life. A suggestion that I run for MP here was one Rob and I wisely eschewed (given that Elizabeth May was a shoo-in) and I haven’t another book in me, I don’t think.

I look to my Gracefully and Frankly podcast partner Lisa Brandt for inspiration: while continuing her voicing and editing work, she’s about to self-publish the third in a fiction trilogy (find out more at the same website). She is doing morning news from her home studio for two FM radio stations in Ontario, and keeps her other hours filled with crafting, creating and coming up with new ideas for our G&F merchandising.

I’m grateful Rob and I will be spending three nights with her and Derek in October and hope some of her magic rubs off on me. After all, whenever I’m with her she gets a new voice job, so, Lisa: I’m counting on you to return the favour!

Have a lovely week and enjoy these days of changing colours, gentle temperatures and red hot baseball. We sure are.