I was sleeping when my cell phone rang. I only keep it on my bedside table as a clock I can quickly refer to should I awaken in the middle of the night — the light from clock radios bothers me.

Last night, when the phone rang I shook off sleep and answered to hear my eldest daughter’s voice. She needed to de-brief a conversation she’d just had with a distraught friend. We chatted for a few minutes, I reassured her she had done her best and we agreed, her best is good enough. We said our “I love you’s”, hung up and I went back to sleep.

How far I’ve come.

I remember a time when the cellphone beside my bed was not there as a sleep aid. I remember a time when its ringing in the night would awaken me to fear, my heart pounding, my mind reeling into a black chasm of darkness sucking me under. I remember a time when that tiny electronic device was an umbilical cord tying me to the terror of a man who believed lying and deceiving was the only way to keep me from flying free.

Someone asked me yesterday if there were any copies of my book, The Dandelion Spirit, available. No, I replied, the publisher no longer exists and I need to edit it before reprinting.

I’m not sure that’s the truth.

I’m not sure if it’s more a case that I have moved so far from those days of overwhelming terror that I have forgotten the difference that book makes.

Because I know it does.

Make a difference.

Two years ago when they were filming the documentary, Devil in a Pinstripe Suit, I told my eldest daughter who the producers had flown in from Vancouver to be part of the filming, that I didn’t feel any emotional connection to those events, or even to the man in question. I did feel an emotional charge around the pain I caused the people I love — and I needed to move into forgiveness to remove any residual shame and self-loathing that was clinging to my peace of mind.

When I wrote that book six years ago, I wrote out a lot of the pain and fear I’d felt. I consciously wrote my way into well-being because I knew that getting the story out was the best way to shine a light on living free of abuse. As I wrote about those dark days, the emotions that would have kept me from living my life in the rapture of now, gently flowed out into the sea of life brimming with joy and love and beauty all around me.

I am blessed. My life today is far greater, far more beautiful than even before I met that man. But, still, there are pockets of unease that sometimes trigger with an unexpected call in the night, reminding me of those days that are no more. Those days when I believed to cut the cord feeding me his lies would kill me.

And I smile as I write that line. And fall into love.

That woman back then who believed he was all she was worth, is me. She deserves my love and attention. She deserves my tender loving care.

And that book I wrote to help myself and other women and men free themselves from the shame and self-blame and self-denigration that ensue from loving an abuser, deserves my attention.

That book has made a difference in hundreds and hundreds of lives.

And to keep making a difference in the world, I need to do whatever I can to be of service.

See — I’ve been stalling on ordering more copies of the book to have on hand when people want to buy them. Not because I don’t know what a difference the book makes, but rather, because I’ve been stalling on turning up for me and my work in the world. I’ve been questioning my motivation in speaking up about that story, speaking out against abuse. It isn’t about reliving those days, or carrying pockets of anger. It’s about shining a light on what happens to our spirit when we turn away from the truth of our magnificence and move into the darkness of believing, I am not worthy.

And in speaking up, in shining a light on abuse, I free myself from the past to live freely in the rapture of now.

My phone rang late in the night, and I am reminded that to live my magnificence today, I must live in the wonder of now, speaking up for all I’m worth, creating a difference with every breath, every act, every word.

Time to…. begin again.

Because, no matter where I’m at, it’s important to love myself and start right where I’m at.

It’s time to…Always begin again.