It's a very wet and dark day in Ottawa this morning. I always find that these kinds of days bring a certain solitude with them, as though it's permitted to sit by yourself somewhere with a book and a blanket, and look at the world without having to be a part of it.

Steve and I were up and out of the house early this morning. Unlike most mornings, it gave me the time to sit and drink my coffee in peace instead of rushing to work with it in hand. I sat at the window bar this morning, watching everyone come and go from the bus stops and it reminded me so much of a very similar day that happened about five years ago in which I found myself at this very same place.

It was in the Fall of 2002. I was walking downtown from my office on the Hill after work. It was rainy and cool, the kind of day that requires an extra sweater. I needed to be at church in a couple of hours and I was running around aimlessly trying to figure out what I could get done in the little time that I had before I was on to the next task. It was at a time in my life when everything seemed frantic. The days rolled by as though I was just keeping my head above water and it felt like I was starting everything without ever finishing anything. When you spend months on end like this, you don't even really seem to notice that you are in a perpetual state of stress. It just becomes so much a part of your life that you start to forget what calm really feels like. It's hard to live a life that way...without focus and purpose other than surviving.

Anyways, on that dreary day, I was walking towards home in a panic about whether or not I have enough time to do everything. It was rainy hard, I hadn't eaten much that day and I was feeling a sense of disorganization unlike any that I had felt in a while. At that moment, right as I was standing in front of the beautiful and majestic Chateau Laurier, the site of so many other people looking for an escape...a bus drove through a nearby puddle and soaked me head to toe. A dropped my umbrella to the ground, starting crying and just let myself get taken over by the rain. I was so frustrated and fed up and no longer had the desire to keep afloat anymore. Something happened in that instance...I gave myself permission to just stop.

I walked over to the Starbucks at the end of the block, bought myself a drink and just sat there, at the same window bar, soaking wet and watched the world go by. I remember the moment like it was yesterday...and I try to remember it as often as possible. Jazz music was playing in the background...the lighting in the store was subtle...it was getting dark...it was cold and wet outside...people were running frantically between the rain drops...and I was okay. It was enlightening to see that I was okay. While the world moved at an unpredictable pace around me...I sat there under a starbuck moonlight, hot chocolate in hand, jazz vocalists soothing my soul. Shortly there after, I dug up any spare pieces of paper that I could find and I just began to write. I wrote how I was feeling, what brought me to this place...this time, what I wanted to do next and mostly, about how small my world felt at that moment. And hour later, I found my way to church and was refreshed. I had stopped my world from moving and to my surprise, it didn't come crumbling down around me. I learned a very important lesson that rainy day...that the first step to getting anywhere is to take care of yourself first. Not only was my mental health preserved but, a ritual was created as well. Anytime that I start to feel overwhelmed with obligations and bogged down with the commitments of life, be it my own or someone else's...I force myself back to that day. I go to my nearest Starbucks, get a warm drink, tune in to the lovely music, pull out my journal (which I bought the following day and never leave home without!) and watch the world go by. Sometimes I sit quietly and reflect, other times an entire novel worth of emotions comes out on paper but, regardless of what comes from it, clarity is always found to some degree. I leave with a sense that the world really has slowed to a more bearable pace.

Surrender is a powerful thing that enables us to, if even for a brief moment, relenquish our desire for control. And while it's very ingrained in our human nature to crave control, we need to remember that nature will not allow the earth to stop spinning if the laundry isn't done or if the congratulatory card isn't sent right away. Instead, you will put on a pair of your old lady underwear, hit the post office a day late and have a piece of your sanity to show for it!!! Certainly a trade off worth making!