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About Louise Gallagher

I believe in wonder. I believe we are all magnificent beings of divine beauty. I believe we can make a difference in this world, through every act, word, thought. I believe we create ripples with everything we do and say and want to inspire everyone to use their ripple to create a better world for everyone. I'm grateful you're here.

CALM Beckons

The word that has found me for 2025 is CALM. Living here at the ocean’s edge, where the waves crash and whisper against the shore in their ever-shifting dance, CALM feels like a powerful anchor, a guiding star.

As I sat in meditation, contemplating this word, its essence seeped into my soul, hushing the clamour of my thoughts. CALM, I realized, is not a destination but a way of being, a gentle unfolding. For me, CALM represents:

  • Clarity: Seeking clarity in my thoughts, actions, and decisions, I invite peace to bloom within and radiate outwards.
  • Alignment: Aligning my actions with my values, I weave a tapestry of inner harmony.
  • Lightness: Cultivating a lightness of being, I allow joy and ease to flow through me like the tide.
  • Mindfulness: Rooted in the present moment, I create fertile ground for CALM to blossom and flourish.

Looking back on 2024, especially the whirlwind that followed our decision to leave Calgary and embrace island life, I recognize that CALM was often elusive. Amidst the chaos of sorting, packing, and moving, amidst the bittersweet farewells and the daunting unknowns, CALM took a backseat to the relentless demands of “getting it done.” In that frenzied focus, I lost touch with my inner sanctuary.

But now, I whisper, “Hello 2025.”

I am beginning anew. Beginning again to breathe in the salty dawn, to find the stillness within, and to radiate peace like the soft glow of sunrise.

Three months have passed since we arrived on Gabriola, though with visits to my loved ones in Calgary and Vancouver, I’ve spent a precious month away. As I reflect on this new beginning, I realize that two months is but a blink of an eye in the grand tapestry of time. I breathe deeply, releasing the anxious whispers that urge me to “settle in” faster, to do more, to be more.

My monkey mind, ever restless, has been chattering lately, insisting that I “get more done,” that I “get focused,” that I “get cracking.” But the truth is, I have accomplished much in these three months. Our home is cozy, most of the boxes are unpacked, and a sense of belonging is slowly taking root.

I adorned our home with festive cheer, baked cookies and cakes, and crafted small gifts from the heart. I even wrote two short stories, now whispering to be edited, and rekindled the flame of a book begun during my Irish adventure in the fall of 2023.

A dear friend once gently suggested I be kinder to myself, that I release the unreasonable demands I place upon my time and energy. At the time, I laughed, quick to assure her that I was indeed kind to myself. But in this nascent year, in this embrace of CALM, I recognize the wisdom in her words. CALM requires me to let go of expectations I would never impose on another. It is an invitation to surrender to the gentle rhythm of life, to savour each day as the precious gift it is.

Hello 2025. I am here, present and ready to embrace you, with open arms and a tranquil heart.

_______________

If you have found your word for 2025 and would like to share it, please do in the comments below! Perhaps your word will inspire others…

A Poem for Solstice

The Return of the Light
by Louise Gallagher

As the light begins its slow return
and the earth tilts
her body weary of long nights
spent yearning
for the freedom
to slip away
from the longest night,
behind the billowing clouds
gathered upon the horizon
the sun gathers strength
to rise above our fear
the light will not return.

We stand upon the precipice
of Solstice,
leaning tentatively
into the edge of hope,
holding back
in fear
the air will still be thick with shadows
and the questions
we cannot answer.

Will the sun rise
to pierce the frosty air?
Will the moon and stars give way
releasing this brand new day
to a world free of the chaos and pain
of whispered threats and shattered hopes,
of long nights spent
dreaming of the sun's warmth
returning
to kiss our skin
and awaken us from dreaming?

Will the earth continue its orbit around the sun
and the moon to reflect its light
so we can see daylight at the end
of this darkest night?

When will we choose to release our fears
and step, unencumbered
into this brand new day
knowing
the celestial dance of time
is beyond our control?

When will we recognize
the steps we take
to navigate
darkness and light
are all we have
to measure our progress
as we journey each year
around the sun.

Painted Sky (a poem to sunset)

Painted Sky
by Louise Gallagher

Stretched across a cerulean canvas
crimson streaks dance
upon Mother Nature's fiery palette
burnishing the sky in gold and rosy hues
of painted light playing
hide-and-seek amongst the clouds.

Breathe,
the golden hour whispers.

Shadows lengthen
calming wind-tossed seas
as day prepares to welcome
night's embrace.

With each exhale,
the day's woes ease
tensions bleed away
carrying off the bitter taste of past regrets
like smoke drifting
upon the wind
fading
into twilight's hush.

Breathing,
I step beyond
the fading light
welcoming in the mystery of darkness
falling
into the vast stillness of the stars
whispering
ancient secrets of eternity.

Old Friend

Image created by Gemini – Imagen 3
Old Friend
by Louise Gallagher

Hello, old friend.
I see you
your shadow hunched
dark and brooding
in the mists of doubt
that crowd my mind
when I dare to step
beyond the comfort of these walls
we’ve built together
believing, they will hold me safe
from living
free
from doubt.

I sense you
my friend
lurking
withered arms outstretched
waiting
to catch me
leaning out
beyond the edges
of this uncomfortable box
I inhabit
because I hold tight
to the fear
of stretching beyond
the things I’ve always done
so that I can stay
close to you.

I feel you
old friend
fighting
to keep me safe
when safety is not what I need
to live
fearlessly
beyond this cage I’ve built
trapping me
in believing
here
is where comfort lies.

The truth lies,
my friend,
in believing
I am alone
when I plunge
heart first
into the unknown
because,
the truth
is always felt
in your hands
on my back
ready to lift me up
when I dare
to let go of doubt
and fly free.

Self-Care Starts with the Truth: Why Putting Yourself First Isn’t Selfish

Have you ever felt responsible for smoothing over someone else’s bad behavior? Like it was your job to absorb their negativity, apologize for their actions, or pretend everything was okay when it really wasn’t – but for the sake of ‘peace’, you smiled and carried on as if your feelings were not important?

I have. For too long, I carried the weight of other people’s “stuff,” their unresolved issues, their emotional storms. I thought that by being understanding, accommodating, and forgiving, I was somehow being a “good” person. But in reality, I was neglecting the most important person in the equation: myself.

What I’ve come to realize is that true self-care begins with honouring my own truth. It means recognizing that I am not responsible for other people’s feelings or actions, and that it’s not my job to fix them, o rmake them feel better about having acted poorly. True self-care means setting clear boundaries of what is, and isn’t, okay in my life, speaking my truth, and refusing to compromise my own well-being for the sake of others.

This doesn’t mean I’ve become cold or uncaring. Quite the opposite. By prioritizing my own needs and staying true to myself, I have more energy and compassion to offer others. But it’s a conscious choice now, not a default setting.

The Harm of Self-Neglect

When we consistently put others’ needs before our own, we engage in a subtle form of self-harm. We diminish our own worth, silence our inner voice, and create a breeding ground for resentment and frustration. This can manifest in many ways:

  • Emotional exhaustion: Constantly absorbing other people’s negativity can drain us, leaving us feeling depleted and overwhelmed.
  • Physical symptoms: Stress, anxiety, and suppressed emotions can take a toll on our physical health.
  • Strained relationships: Resentment can build when we feel taken advantage of or unappreciated.
  • Self-loathing: In our silence and resentment, we leave ourselves at risk of losing our sense of self-worth, undermining our belief in our own voice and undervaluing our truth as we give more credencce to the nees of others.

The Power of Truth

Choosing truth means acknowledging our own feelings, needs, and boundaries. It means having the courage to say “no” when necessary, even if it disappoints others. It means recognizing that our worth is not dependent on others’ approval or validation.

This journey isn’t always easy. It requires self-awareness, courage, and a willingness to prioritize our own well-being. But the rewards are immeasurable. When we live in alignment with our truth, we experience a sense of freedom, authenticity, and inner peace that no one can take away.

Taking Action

Standing in our truth, releasing ourselves from the habit of making it okay for others to behave badly in our lives, asks us to recognize and acknowledge where we are behaving badly towards ourselves by accepting or enabling that bad behavior from others. It is a step-by-step process of deepening our understanding of our values and beliefs, learning to identify our emotional boundaries, and developing the courage to assert those boundaries.

It requires us to be brave, be honest, and to stay unattached to the outcome. This means accepting that we cannot control how others will react to our boundaries and focusing on the inner peace that comes from honouring our truth.

If, like me, you have had the habit of smoothing over conflicted emotions by focusing on ‘the other,’ here are a few steps you can take to start prioritizing your own well-being:

  • Identify your core values: What truly matters to you? What principles do you want to live by?
  • Recognize your emotional triggers: What situations or behaviors make you feel uncomfortable, resentful, or drained?
  • Track your habitual trigger-responses: When triggered, take a breath and ask yourself, ‘Will responding this way get me more, or less, of what I want in my life?’ This helps you become more conscious of your patterns and make choices that align with your goals.
  • Engage in self-compassion: Rather than beating yourself up for feeling triggered, focus on how you can respond differently to honour and promote your self-worth and respect.
  • Practice setting small boundaries: Start with saying “no” to small requests that don’t align with your needs or values.
  • Use “I” statements: Communicate your boundaries clearly and assertively, focusing on your own feelings and needs. (e.g., “I feel uncomfortable when…” or “I need some time to myself…”)”

Remember, self-care isn’t selfish. It’s an act of self-preservation, an essential step towards living a more authentic and fulfilling life.

For Jackie. Forever Young. Forever in Our Hearts

It is a year today since she took her last breath. A year of learning to live without her in our midst. Without her kindnesses and generosities. Without her laughter and caring ways. Without her phone calls and notes of gratitude. Without her.

It is a year today.

Love you Jackie. Always. You will be, Forever Young. Forever in Our Hearts.

I wrote this Benediction shortly after she passed over. It continues to bring me solace.

Benediction
by Louise Gallagher

And when the last breath is taken,
and the heart has beaten its final tattoo,
we stand in silent communion
wondering why, how can this be?

That the one who once laughed and sang slightly off-key,
and sipped a scotch with joyful anticipation,
and prepared delectable meals with endless love and grace,
How can their final breath be taken?
How can her heart, so strong and fiercely loving,
now be still?

There are no answers in death,
only the silence,
stretching endlessly into the vast unknown of the beyond,
beyond the breath,
beyond the heartbeats,
beyond the off-key notes and the savoured sip of scotch,
and the oven that no longer chimes to let her know
the meal she so thoughtfully prepared is ready to be placed upon the table,
set with sparkling crystal and flickering candlelight,
to welcome the guests she has gathered, to let them know,
through every act of kindness that she poured
into every morsel she served,
"I love you."

And when the last breath is taken,
and the heart has beaten its final rhythm,
we stand in silent communion
with the silence and the comfort of knowing
there are no more words that need be spoken,
for the final benediction she heard,
was simply, "I love you.”

Island Life: Riding the Storm

Monday Evening – The calm before the storm

The sea is a mirror, reflecting the tranquility of my Monday evening walk with Beau, my eager companion. I stroll along the shoreline, breathing in the sights and sounds and scents of sea meeting forest. Beau strains at his leash, his nose twitching at the salty air as he presses me to hurry up and walk faster. Perhaps he senses the stormy seas wrapped up in a ‘cyclone bomb’ predicted to descend upon the west coast this evening? In the words of Scarlett O’Hara, of Tara, “I’ll worry about that tomorrow.” On this evening, we stroll along the shore, watching otters frolic and a bald eagle trace circles against the sky. Who knows what fierce fury tomorrow’s weather will blow in with the wind?

Life here has a rhythm all its own. One day I’m elbow-deep in flour, baking Christmas cookies with a gaggle of laughing women (let’s just say my first batch of chocolate chip cookies, were unexpectedly, ‘Chocolate Chip Florentines’!). The next, I’m immersed in the vibrant local community, volunteering with the “Grug Huggers” who provide meals for Islanders needing food support.

My sister Anne and I are rediscovering our shared love for music and laughter, exploring the island’s theaters and concert halls. Sunday nights find C.C. and I swaying to jazz in a cozy pub, where we met Ken, an artist who welcomed me into his creative circle, and Kat, who introduced me to the Island Singers. Who knows, maybe Anne and I will even grace the stage again, defying our brother’s youthful pronouncements that the only stage we should be on is, ‘the first one out of town’!

Tuesday morning – There’s a storm brewin’

But island life also means facing the raw power of nature. A “cyclone bomb” is brewing, promising high winds and crashing waves. We’ve battened down the hatches, our generator standing ready to keep the essentials running. Wish us luck as we ride out the storm!

Island Living is pure adventure, especially in stormy weather!

In the River of Time

In the River of Time
by Louise Gallagher

Time flows in one direction
slow and steady
it moves forward
carrying us always
closer and closer
to the heart’s last beat
where the earth waits patiently
to claim us as its own.

The river winds its way through valleys and plains,
carrying the scent of earth and rain,
its waters overflowing
with stories of the places it’s been
as it pours itself into the deep
vast waters of the ocean
waiting patiently
for its gift to become one
with the endless song
of its ebb and flow.

The heart, blood red
beats its own rhythm
as we live out our stories
along the banks we call our own
moving always with time’s
journey moving us along
until the beat is gone
and we return
to the earth waiting patiently
to claim us as its own.

Time, like the river,
refuses no heartbeat.
Why then do we believe
one heart's story,
lived out in time’s passing days
on the banks of a river
we've never known
is worth valuing more
than another?

My Grandmother Rachel

Our past is not just history; it’s a living part of who we are. Until we unearth the secrets of our family history, we can never fully understand the roots of our own identity.

Nervous and excited, I entered the virtual circle poet, singer/songwriter and teacher, Meredith Heller, created for our first online gathering of Kindred – Women’s Poetry Workshop. I first encountered Meredith through my friend Brian Pearson and his Mystic Cave Podcast.

Enchanted by her voice, words and presence, I searched for a course I could join and was drawn to Kindred with its enticing invitation to “Join us this holiday season as we write ourselves into deeper & vital belonging with the great family of life.”

The timing couldn’t have been more fortuitous. Still feeling the aftereffects of the results of the US election two days prior, still trying to find my sense of place and balance in the great wheel of life, joining the Kindred called me in like a welcoming fire inviting me into the womb of my creative nature.

I wasn’t disappointed, but I was surprised.

In Meredith’s opening visualization, she invited each of us to listen for and allow an ancestor to come forward. That’s when my Grandmother Rachel, my father’s mother, appeared.

I know little about her. My father never spoke of her, having been estranged from her since he was 8 when his parents divorced. All I really knew about Grandmother Rachel was what my mother told me, which boiled down to, “She was mean to me.” But in the visualization, Rachel radiated a quiet joy, unlike my mother, whose smile always seemed etched with a hint of sorrow.

As I stood before her, I felt confused and curious. I had never really tried to get to know this woman who was a part of me, whose DNA was intertwined with mine. Her joy, a stark contrast to the sadness I often associate with my family history, made me wonder what other hidden strengths and emotions I carry within me, inherited from generations past.

When my mother died almost five years ago, I became the keeper of her “Box of Secrets”, a large tin Lebkuchen box that had travelled from Germany back to Canada with my parents many years before. Amongst photos and various papers, it held letters from my father to my mother during WW2, their marriage certificate from Pondicherry, India in 1942 and, letters my grandmother wrote to her daughter, Phyllis, a woman I’d never met and had not known even existed until I was in my 30s.

My father kept secrets well. My Grandmother Rachel was part of the mystery that enshrouded the secrets of his life.

Looking at my Grandmother Rachel yesterday, I felt a profound sense of the unknown. What stories did she hold within her? What trials had she faced? What joys had she celebrated? And what part of her story lives on in me, waiting to be discovered?

Perhaps we all carry within us these unseen threads, these echoes of lives lived long ago, shaping who we are in ways we may never fully understand.

As I embark on this journey of uncovering my father’s hidden history, I am filled with a sense of both trepidation and excitement, knowing that with each revelation, I come closer to understanding the complex tapestry of my own being.

Thank you Meredith for welcoming me so warmly into “this great family of life.”

What about you? Does your family history hold secrets you’ve yet to unfold?