Meg's Blog

diverging paths

Will has graduated. 

Such a mix of feelings.

His dad here.  Past and present all jumbled together. 

And then, there is the uncertain future.  Is this the end of tea and chats and the odd-and-awkward-but-weirdly-cozy blending of lives and families?

It feels like the end of an era. 

We are pretending that it’s just another visit, but it isn’t. 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, June 30, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

A busy time

We found an apartment Emily loved, so hopefully, we’ll get it.  Fingers crossed.  I meet with the agent this morning. 

I’ve been working like a dog on the copy edits I received for Gemma.

Emily leaves for the airport this morning.  It’s been so lovely having her home.  Although, this project of hers is worrying me to death.  I try not to think of all that could go wrong.  Try to think about how this could really be a wonderful thing and that it will enhance and change the way she looks at life and at the wide variety of ways to live ones life.  Sort of like when I was acting, stepping into my characters skin, in living their lives, I would learn so much about my own.

Will has his last provincial exam this morning, in history.  He has been studying for days.  Really, really studying.  On his own.  Spread out on the sofa, piles of books and papers and notes.  Out on the balcony, daylight turning to dusk.  Up in his room.  I’m really proud of the effort he’s been putting into his finals this year.  All on his own.  Self-motivated.  I hope it pays off for him today. 

Then Don and I make the trek to our new little cottage on the beach, (yes, I sold the big house) and tomorrow we meet the movers and place furniture, unpack our mountains of boxes.  I have to leave mid-afternoon to do lung tests at the hospital, and then, back again, to unpack some more.

We’ve loved living in this Coal Harbour rental, walking to restaurants, the grocery store, long walks in Stanley park.  It’s been sort of live a vacation holiday, with the Boardwalk and boats bobbing right outside our window.  It’s been lovely, but now, I have to say, I’m ready to settle, move into our home, be surrounded by familiar things, sleep in our old bed with it’s soft comfortable sheets. 

We have Will’s confirmation, grad dinner and dance, then one more week in Vancouver and then we’re done.  Home sweet home.  Hopefully.  It’s always strange, when I make a move to somewhere new, unfamiliar.  I have all these hopes and dreams of this wonderful, creative, peaceful life, but who knows how it will really turn out.  Will we have nice neighbours?  Or the neighbours from hell?  Will it be beautiful and serene, with the waves gently lapping and an occasional sea gull’s cry, or will a neighbour have a dog that barks incessantly, all day and night so that sleep and writing is impossible? 

And then, what happens if Lorri, (my Coal Harbor neighbour and actually, we’ve only known each other for around a month now, but she is starting to be a really, really good friend, and I have these cautious, shy hopes that maybe it will be one of those rare, lifelong friendships) what happens if her mad-cap scheme comes to fruition?  Then what? 

And last but not least, can’t wrap up this blog without mentioning that last week I was in London, with my sister, Jennifer, cheering her on in Wallace Shawn’s new play, Grasses of a Thousand Colors.  Jenny was MAGNIFICENT!  I was sooooooo proud to sit out there in the audience, watching her character, live and breathe up there on the stage.  Her performance moved me greatly. 

I was in London for eight days and it flew.  We had so much fun, talking and eating food and shopping and meeting her friends, and going to her play.  Being backstage with her, breathing in the particular smells that theaters have.  Puttering around town.  It was so much fun.  And sitting here, typing to you, telling you about it, I feel surrounded with the magical glow of those eight days, the cozy comfort, puttering around her apartment, making tea, the after theater snacks of tasty English treats, why she Skyped Phil and I Skyped Don and Will.  Curling up on the little makeshift bed, Jenny, Miranda and Emily had in their dressing room, that had a brightly colored coverlet with what looked like little mirrors sewn in, but they couldn’t have been because it didn’t cut me. 

Jenny wanting me to take a short nap before the play, because I was really tired, but once I lay down, I couldn’t.  I felt like a little kid, being allowed to sleep in her mothers room.  The mystery of it.  The three women talking softly, putting on their makeup, getting ready for the show.  The anticipation of the evening to come, the audience, starting to arrive, the gearing up, and tiredness too, because they every night they have three hours and twenty minutes to fill, and who knows what the audience will be like this night. 

No sleep was impossible.  I didn’t want to waste a moment of the experience with sleep, and this might sound strange, but one of the things that stays in my mind, that moved me the most was when Jenny wanted to make the little bed nice for me, I started to lay down and she said, “Wait!“ took off the silk kimono, jacket she was wearing and draped it over the rather squashed white pillow that was rumpled in the corner.  “There,“ she said, smoothing it with her hands, and I have never felt quite so loved as I did in that particular moment.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, June 17, 2009 in

Emily’s craziness

Okay, now I know I said I wasn’t going to blog, but I had to share this with all of you.

My daughter, Emily has come up with a plan.  A crazy plan, that when she first told me what she was going to do, I really tried my best to talk her out of it.

No luck.

She’s going forward with it. 

Now, everybody I’ve talked about it with, thinks it’s a really interesting idea.  They, of course, are not Emily’s mother.

I could try to explain what her scheme is, but I think her website  does it better.

All you parents out there, will know just how my heart lurched when you read what she’s planning to do.  But when I stand back, away from the worry, I think it is a pretty cool idea too.

I am going to be in charge of her kick off week.  My sister, Jennifer is going to do a week and so is her kick-ass poker player boyfriend, Phil Laak.  Emily has a ton of very interesting people lined up and a few openings left. 

I’ve decided that I am going to make the best of a situation that I personally find quite scary and put my week to good purpose!  My week will probably be the week that Emily is well and truly happy to see the end of.  Be that as it may, here finally is an opportunity to schedule some of those pesky worrisome motherly things, that I am always trying to get my children to keep up with now that they have left home.  Heh…heh…heh! 

Hey, look, giving relatives, friends and total strangers the power to chose how you spend an entire week wasn’t MY idea! 

And right now, I have to say, I am feeling quite tricky.  I’ve already booked my daughter in for something on her first week that I’m sure she won’t be pleased about, but I am thrilled that this is finally going to be done.

And I’m supposed to give her a book to read during my week, and instead of a lovely, literary read, I have settled on a book, that she would NEVER read on her own, but is going to stand her in good stead, and is way more practical. 

I’m nervous about her Art As Life, but I have to say, I’m having fun figuring out how to spend her week.

Just hope she is still speaking to me by the end of it.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Saturday, June 13, 2009 in

Final posting, much love, Meg

My dear bloggers,

I have made a decision to try and cut down on my computer time.  I find I am losing more and more of my precious life hours sitting in front of this screen, either blogging or reading financial news letters, and other people’s blogs.  Then there is the regular news that gobbles up more time, and I find myself reading about really horrible things, murders and suicides, and parents killing children when what I really want to be doing is to be finding a way to feel present in my own skin. 

I don’t want to be on my death bed, my life passing before my eyes and when I come to the last eight years (around the time I got on the Internet because my daughter was heading off to University) it is one huge blur of me pecking away at my computer, while the days flipped past.

It’s weird how it started.  For years I didn’t have an email.  I didn’t have my computer hooked up to the Internet.  I only used my computer for writing.  And now look at me, a large portion of my waking hours are squandered siting in front of a glowing screen.  And I feel undone, overwhelmed, by all the horrific news out there.  I feel like I want to stay in bed and not face the day.  I feel tired, burnt out.

And so today I start the great experiment.  When Don gets home I’m going to have him disconnect the Internet from my computer.

If someone wants to get in touch with me, they will have to call.  I much prefer talking on a walk, or over tea, or a yummy meal.  I even would rather talk on the telephone.  I shall check my email from Don’s computer on Sundays.  And if I decide to do a reading or something, I will post it on my events page at that time, but other than that, I’m going to hold off. 

I want to thank all of you who have come to visit with me.  I’ve really, really enjoyed it.  And am very touched by the enormous number of people who have taken a moment out of their day to share this last year and four months with me.  I have loved blogging.  It has made me feel not so alone in the world.  Like there is a whole cozy world of blog out there that I feel connected to.  Strangers who come to my readings and I can tell by the light in their eyes when they walk up to me, that they have read my blog, because they approach me like a friend.  Not a thing. 

Blogging has been a great gift for me.  I feel known by you.  I thank you for that.  And even though I won’t be writing on my blog, please know that I hold you in my heart and will always treasure this time that we’ve shared.  The midnight wakings, me creeping downstairs, turning on my computer and writing my thoughts to you.  The bluish glow of the computer screen, making a small halo of light in all the darkness of the house. 

Now I’m going to move on, unclench the tight grip this computer has over me and try to rediscover and enjoy other aspects of my life.  Things that I have let fall by the wayside.

It is time for me to simplify. 

Much love and affection, Meg xo

Posted by Meg Tilly on Saturday, January 31, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

Why have I not blogged?

You might be asking.  I wish I had a really good excuse, like the novel writing muse struck and struck hard, but no.

Then what could possibly be interesting and important enough to wrench you away from your computer?

I’ve been…ahem… having fun with my new coin counting machine that I bought at Staples. Yes, I know that doesn’t sound so riveting but let me tell you, Will and I are really enjoying ourselves. 

It started out as one of those gotta-do-chores, but once I figured out the little plastic Ultrasorter and the little paper wrappers and so forth, it’s amazing how it passes time.  And even more amazing is how much money Don had managed over the last four years to dump out of his pockets into a white plastic bucket sitting by his desk.  A TON!

It’s been two days of sorting and I’m still not done and Will and I have sorted and sealed over ONE THOUSAND FOUR HUNDRED DOLLARS!  And I’m not even done yet.  My arms are actually sore from lifting all that change. 

“Yes,“ I say, “This is how one gets in shape for the grueling Spa week to come.  One sorts coins.  Strengthens the biceps etc.“  I’d be better served by getting on the cross-trainer.

I’ve also been busy, helping Don get ready for his first public appearance as an author.  He is nervous and I’m…

Well, sometimes I’m soothing, but sometimes no, because he asked me to help him with his presentation, and being soothing all the time, is not very helpful

I’m sure Don would say that I was “soothing” maybe one-half a percent of the time, but when he comes home on Saturday, all triumphant, he’s going to give me a big kiss and thank me for all the help I gave him and say, “Honey, I never could have done it without you.“  And he won’t remember the non-soothing times.

So, what I’ve been doing, along with all the other regular day-to-day stuff.  Hence a few skipped blogs. 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, January 29, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

If you want to truly scare yourself…

Go to Bennet Sedacca site and read his article Cast Your Vote, Recession or Depression

Reading what he has to say, looking at the accompanying charts, the word that comes to mind is YIKES!

Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, January 27, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

A morning walk

I just got back from a great morning walk with Ki______n.  We looped up and around and back again, weaving our way through all the back streets of our neighbourhood.  Places and streets I didn’t even know existed. Made our way down to the beach, with it’s arbutus and cedar trees, Ki____n leading the way, up and over large grey rock, leaping over glossy patches of black ice.  It was really lovely.  Invigorating. 

Bright sunshine ricocheting off the water, making my eyes squint even with my sunglasses on. 

It was a good workout.  Ki_____n’s back is out, but you’d never know it by the strength and length of her stride, not to mention her kick-ass pace. 

I kept up however, so I was proud of myself.  Was even able to carry on a conversation. 

That woman is super-fit, let me tell you.  And I’ll bet that even with us going a super workout clip, that she could have doubled the speed and still would have been fine.

Anyway, the weather report is that we are expecting snow tonight, which makes me doubly glad we got out today. 

My skin is still tingling from being in the outside air.  It’s like an all over gling feeling.  Like something exciting is going to happen.  My outside skin is cool too, I can feel my inside body blood rushing to the surface to help bring everything back to the same temperature.

Lovely, lovely.  I’m so glad she emailed this morning to see if I wanted to go for a walk.  Spur of the moment.  I’m so glad I said yes, even though it was cold.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, January 26, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

A Happy Morning Surprise!

My sister, Jenny, did a really, really nice thing for our whole family a few weeks ago and I didn’t know about it because it’s been a very long time since I’ve hauled my sorry butt to the post office.  And let me say this, I am VERY excited and know EXACTLY what I am going to do with said gift.

I am going to use it to join Jenny on a girl’s week away!  And guess what?  We are going to leave in exactly ONE WEEK.

What a splurge!  And honestly, something I wouldn’t have felt comfortable doing using the family expenses money at this time.

A week with my sister, getting in shape, hiking, talking, walking the labyrinth.  What an unexpected luxury.  I feel very lucky.

Thank you, Jenny. xo

Posted by Meg Tilly on Sunday, January 25, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

A taste of what’s to come

Don’s away and I just dropped Will off at a friend’s house.

I used to like driving at night.  I could see well in the dark.  Not anymore.  I don’t find night driving restful at all.  I wonder if it’s going to get even worse as the years pass.  Will I someday be unable to do any night driving at all. 

My mother can’t.  I used to think she had just gotten timid as she aged, but now I know that it was her eyes that aged, not her spirit. 

Or maybe it did too.  Maybe mine is as well. 

As I was tearing along the freeway, headlights on, peering into the inky darkness, a slight taste of apprehension and fear in the back of my throat, I was thinking to myself, I would only do this for one of my kids.  Driving to an unknown address at a time of night when I am generally tucked cozy in the house and flirting with the idea of going to bed.

But, I’m back.  Safe and sound.  Nothing untoward happened.

God, the house is quiet.  Both dogs asleep on the rug in the hall.  Just far enough away that I can’t even hear the gentle snuffles and grunts of their sleep breath.

This house is way too big. 

I had lunch with Ki______n yesterday.  “Your house is nice but it feels like you haven’t moved in.  There is none of that clutter, personal touches,“ she said.  And it surprised me.  Her forthrightness.  But even though it kind of embarrassed me, I had to admit was true as well.  I haven’t moved in here.  It doesn’t feel like mine.  It feels like somebody’s house that I am visiting.  A nice house, but nothing to do with me.  Even more so, I suppose, since last year, around this time, when I shipped most of the furniture that I had collected over the last 15 years to someone who needed it more than I did. 

My old-time bloggers know what I’m talking about. 

It was hard at the time.  Hurt like hell, but now, I look back and really, it was a gift.  The act of that set me free in a way that nothing else could have done.  Don and I got busy, used our writing money, refurnished the house.  Nice squishy sofas, new tables, new chairs, paintings.  But is there a connection?  Some yes, but to most of it, no. 

And when I sell this house, I will donate most of it, give it away.  Take only what the heart wants.  What will fit in the new place.  The smaller place that we won’t rattle around in like yesterday’s memories.

I am not looking forward to all of the work.  I am looking forward to having done it.  To the time when the downsizing will be completed and we will be tucked away in our cozy little house, with it’s postage stamp lawn and the water lapping at our feet. 

I can hardly wait until the work and worry of it is done and there is nothing left to do but write if I want to, eat cozy food, take long walks and enjoy.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Friday, January 23, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

Not everyone was fooled

Check out my daughter’s blog.  I think she sums the whole BB thing up quite succinctly.  I have no bad feeling towards any of the participants in said movie, but 13 nominations?  Hmm… interesting.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, January 22, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

I WROTE!

I actually wrote!  I got back in.  I dove in with both fists, threw out the last few chapters where I started going in the wrong direction and have started the new journey. 

I am so happy.  Feel so good.  And to top it all off when I finished up the new chapter, I went on a mist-ladened walk with Karen and our dogs and talked about life and writing and woman stuff. 

Ahh… I’m back in my skin.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, January 20, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

Change.

I, like the rest of the world am watching the inauguration of Obama. 

So many people.  So much hope.

Such mixed feelings in my heart.  I feel he is a good man.  His intentions are true and honorable.  I feel that he will do his best to serve his country, his people and the world. 

I also feel that the task before him is so huge and so vast, and the expectations so high, that the obstacles are almost insurmountable. 

I have hopes.  There are no quick fixes. 

We must be realistic, patient, and know that hard times are ahead.  He is only one man, and no matter how hard he works, there is only so much that can be accomplished.  There is so much that needs to be healed, fences to mend, economies, international relationships.  If Obama and the team he has put together is able to do one fifth of what we hope for, it will be a great thing.

The pastor is speaking now.  He irritates me.  He is sooo pompous and full of himself.  I can feel huge ego emanating from him.  Icky. 

Thank God, he is done.  Now Aretha Franklin is going to sing.  Hopefully that will get the taste of that pastor out of my mouth. 

I’m off.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, January 20, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

The non-writing life

Will is reading on the sofa and I am doing various busy work on the other one, so in case he feels inclined to toss a sentence or two my way, I’ll be here.  I can’t believe that after this Spring he won’t be living full-time with us anymore. 

I’ve read various investment blog tonight, The Big Picture, John Mauldin, Investment Postcards from Cape Town.  It seems like no sooner have I finished one when another one appears in my mailbox. 

And the problem is, that both The Big Picture and Investment Postcards have all these taster articles and if you find it interesting you can click on it and read the whole thing.  And the IPFCT guy,  Prieur du Plessis, also has started doing an addition to his blog that has a ton of really interesting, relevant to the economy, video interviews that he assimilates during the week and a lot of them are quite fasinating and so of course there goes another couple hours of my day.  Once he included a bunch of really great black and white films and clips from the crash of 1929 and the aftermath.  And then of course around Christmas he “elfed” himself and it was really funny seeing his serious head dancing disco. 

After viewing that I went to the site and elfed Will and Don and then we did all three of us dancing a trio.  It was fun.  We laughed our guts out and then had us do another dance. 

Anyway, I’ve been reading a lot of stuff lately.  And I mean a lot!  I even went to far as to read an e-book calledThe Hyperinflation Survival Guide just in case, down the road, the Fed isn’t able to unwind all this stimulus and liquidity that they are pumping into the money supply.  I know it’s a long shot, but I’m all about contingency plans.  A carry-over from my chaotic childhood.  I am hoping we won’t have hyper inflation, but just in case, I now know what I’ll need to do to keep up with it.  The book was written in the 80’s and made for pretty wild reading. 

Luckily, it was Martin Luther King day, an American holiday, so there was no Richard Russell today.  Don’t get me wrong, I love Richard Russell, but I getting to a tipping point with how much I can digest before I start to zone out. 

It will be nice when things in the world start calming down a bit.  Then I’ll probably get myself back to a nice comfortable, one or two a day.  And sometimes, if I’m busy with my writing, I’ll go a couple days or even a week, without reading a single one. 

Ah… That is the telling sentence. 

Yes, the economy and the political, social, moral repercussions make for fascinating, riveting, interesting, scary reading…

BUT… Now that I sort of know what I’m going to do, and I’m following my investment plan, and putting in the foundation for this next phase of my investment life, shouldn’t I be able to tear myself away from the drama and return to my writing desk?

The family’s finances are relatively safe.  Well, as safe as one can be, but really, who knows what is safe anymore?  My house is paid for.  No debt.  I have savings.  Shouldn’t I now be carving out a couple of hours a day to return to my writing?

Maybe.

I’m scared, I think.  To try writing again.  It’s like the longer I stay out of the water, the colder the memory of it gets in my head. 

The longest break I’ve taken from writing in the last eight years was two weeks and even then, I had to force myself to stay away for the whole two weeks because I was chomping at the bit to get back in.

Well… I haven’t worked on my manuscript for two and a half months!

I’m worried to go back to the manuscript I was working on, because this is my seventh draft and I was right near the end and I put a lot into it and now I am worried that it isn’t any good.  Maybe that’s why I’m not writing.  After working on it for all these years, trying all these different approaches to the material, what if my worry was confirmed and the manuscript did suck and the story was no good. 

Do I really want to know that?

I’m not sure I do.

Maybe it’s better to be wrapped up in the financial side of things for a while.  Exercise the analytical side of my brain.  I’m good at it.  And really, looking at it from a dollar prospective, I make way more handling my finances than I do from book sales etc.  And it’s interesting too.

The weird thing is the two things have reversed for me.  The writing feels like work and handling my stuff feels like a hobby.  It used to be the other way around.

Sigh.

You know, I’m really not being fair.  I’ll try again tomorrow, to go into my writing room.  I’ve already made a few half-hearted attempts and one serious one, but I got overwhelmed and fled.  Wish me luck.  And courage.  I’ll need it.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, January 19, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

Procrastination

Last night, right before I drifted off to sleep, I decided that while Don was doing his On-line writing group this morning with Ken and James, I would go downstairs and exercise.

It was a good plan. 

When I woke up this morning, I dutifully put on my exercise clothes and came downstairs, and had some breakfast.

Don is in his writing room now, at the computer talking with Ken and James.  He’s been in there for 47 minutes

And me?

Well, I guess it’s easy to ascertain that I am not downstairs exercising!  I don’t know why typing that last sentence put the biggest smile on my face?  This is not a good thing.  This is a blatant disregard for my well thought out this-is-how-we-do-it exercise plan. 

I’ve still got a goofy-Dennis-the-menace smile on my face.  Feel like I’m doing something wicked, but incredibly clever.

This feeling will pass however and guilt will take over.  And then I won’t feel so clever.  I’ll feel like a big giant sloth blob sitting on the sofa.  Unhealthy, like after I ate all that delicious pink cotton candy at the Canucks game.  It was fun while I was eating it, but afterwards, I wished I had only eaten a portion of it, not the whole thing.

Okay… The smile is gone.  Phooey.  I’d better go down and get on that stupid treadmill. 

Bye for now.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Sunday, January 18, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

Big now

It’s early morning, dark outside, the fog horn is blowing in the distance, calm and steady, a comforting noise. 

A dream woke me.  It wasn’t a scary dream, but I got scared anyway.  I was trying to hide, it was a game, the person I was hiding from was being nice, playful.  It was kind of dark, hard to see, I was moving fast up the back stairs, holding the ball, and then I got scared.  Not the bad kind of scared, more the feeling when you are approaching a blind corner in a spook house.

Turning the corner of the stairs, and everything is all fluttery and jumpy inside, my feet can’t help but do a scared dance, even though I know it’s silly.  But what if he has gone the other way and is waiting in the dark, around the corner to roar at me.

My step-father used to do that.  Hide around corners, in the dark, leap out and roar.

But this guy is not my step-dad.

I get to the top of the stairs, time is running out.  I have to make a decision.  He is looking for me now.  I can either run down the hall and look for another place, or I can hide here in the shadows.

I slip into the shadows. 

I am good at that.  Melding, blending in with shadows.  People can walk right by, see nothing.  But you have to be good at it.  Hold absolutely still, be silent.  Tuck into yourself, don’t even breathe.

I can hear him coming up the stairs.  My heart is hammering.  I make myself smaller, but then the slightly deflated child’s ball I am carrying, lets out a small wheeze.  It is not a loud noise, but it is enough, I will not escape detection.  And this giddy fear that almost borders on fun, but is out of control, erupts and I can’t stop noises and laughter from escaping.  I’m laughing, but I’m scared and shaking too, even though this guy is nothing like my step-dad.

And he finds me, but he doesn’t roar. 

I am kind of embarrassed at how out of control I felt.  I shake my arms to try to rid myself of the fight or flight adrenaline that is roaring through me. 

He is kind, gentle, compassionate eyes.  “You aren’t twelve anymore,“ he says.  “You’re big now.  They can’t hurt you anymore.“

And then I wake up. 

“You are big now.  They can’t hurt you any more.“  That’s exactly what Rosie O’Donnell told me after I was on the View and couldn’t stop crying.  “You are big now.  They can’t hurt you any more.“  And I used her words, when ever I got scared, on book tour for Gemma.  I used it as a mantra.  Said it to myself, over and over, and it helped.

And I lay there in my bed.  Not scared anymore.  I lay there, full of gratitude for my life, the safety and peace I’ve been able to create.  I am big now.  I can take care of myself.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Friday, January 16, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

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