Category Archives: aging with grace

How to ReAwaken Your Dreams

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There was a time, when I thought youth would last forever. In those days, I harboured dreams so outlandish, so far-fetched, I dared not believe in them. Instead, I let them dissolve into clouds of nothing but memory.

There was a time when my knees were strong and my body nimble, where running fast and skiing even faster was the only therapy I needed to wash away the day’s worries. In the exhilaration of feeling the wind against my skin, the earth moving beneath my feet, I felt at one with the world around me, one with the life force surging within me.

Older now, yet many years younger than I want to be when I draw my last breath and my heart loses its beat, I come full circle back to dreaming big dreams. Full circle back to knowing dreams don’t care how fast I go or how many steps I take. They only care that I take a step, and then the next, towards their unfolding.

Some things I’ve let go of to give my body the space it needs to grow older with grace. My knees can no longer run miles and miles. Skiing long ago slid into my rearview mirror as arthritis climbed into the front passenger seat, without first asking permission to share its aches and pains. With arthritis as my constant companion, I know the only way to walk each step pain-free is to take this journey with my dreams as my North Star, their light a beacon of hope and possibility.

Dreams do not rest easy in the dark. They like to take up space in the light of day, clamouring for attention. No matter how many times I have driven this road before, it is my dreams and their unfolding that ignite my passion, that leave me feeling the power of the life force pulsing through me and leave me breathless, begging for more:

Life
Vitality
Dreams

Today, I am creating new dreams and blowing life into the embers of the ones I let dissolve into clouds so long ago. In the growing power of their luminescence, I hear my heart calling me to dance like no one is watching, to sing like no one is listening, and to live my dreams like my life depends on them. It does. I do.

I am coming home to myself. Coming home to my dreams, whatever they may be. And in my homecoming, I am finding myself coming alive with possibility, hope, and dreaming.

How to reawaken your dreams:

  • Reconnect with your inner child: What did you love to do as a child? What were you curious about? Revisiting those passions can spark forgotten dreams.
  • Face your fears: What’s holding you back? Identify those fears and actively work on overcoming them. This could involve therapy, journaling, or simply taking small steps outside your comfort zone.
  • Create a vision board: A visual representation of your dreams can be incredibly powerful. Gather images, quotes, and anything that inspires you and create a board to remind you of what you’re striving for.
  • Surround yourself with inspiration: Read books, watch movies, listen to podcasts, and connect with people who are living their dreams. This can help reignite your own passion and motivation.
  • Practice mindfulness: Being present in the moment allows you to connect with your intuition and inner wisdom, which can guide you towards your dreams.
  • Start small: Break down your dreams into smaller, achievable goals. This makes the journey less daunting and allows you to celebrate your progress along the way.
  • Embrace failure: See setbacks as learning opportunities, not reasons to give up. Every “failure” brings you one step closer to success.
  • Dream outlandish dreams: Don’t let reality curb your dreaming. Dream big, bold, and audacious dreams! Then, take a step towards them. You’ll never know what will happen next until you dare to take that first step.
  • Believe in yourself: This is perhaps the most important step. Trust that you have the power to achieve your dreams, no matter how big or small.

CALM Beckons

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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…

Will the romance ever end?

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Will the romance of taking the ferry ever fade? Will island life ever grow old? These were the questions swirling in my mind as I returned from a day trip to Nanaimo with my sister. A fellow passenger, J., assured me with a knowing smile, “Never. I still feel the thrill after all these years.”

J., a long-time resident of Gabriola, perfectly embodies the warm and welcoming spirit of this island. Like C.C. and me, she moved west from Calgary, seeking a different pace of life. After island hopping amongst several Gulf Islands, she finally settled on Gabriola. “They are all beautiful,” she said, “but Gabe holds a certain charm.”

It’s a charm I’m quickly discovering myself. From the friendly conversations on the ferry to the shared knowledge about everything dog related including the 411 on Friday morning community dog walks on the beach and Friday night darts at the Golf Club. There’s a strong sense of community here, a feeling of community woven through every interaction. Even the intricacies of garbage day – a topic of surprising importance on the island – reveal a unique connection to place and a respect for the environment.

Like so many people I’ve met here, J.’s story, with its reflections on aging, resilience, and connection to nature, adds another layer to the island’s allure. Her invitation to join her on a walk with her horses speaks volumes about the openness and generosity I’ve encountered in everyone I meet.

It has been just over two weeks since C.C. and I rolled off the ferry to take up residence on the island. In those few short days, Gabriola has begun to weave its magic. The initial romance hasn’t faded; it’s deepened into a sense of belonging and a growing appreciation for the island way of life. And, like J, I am holding on to the romance of taking the ferry as my heart settles into finding myself at home here at the edge of the sea.

A House of Many Corners

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We are a house of many corners.

There is the ‘Reading corner’ in our bedroom.

Each corner has a purpose. Yet still, within each purpose was the opportunity to shift. Evolve. Change.

Sometimes, there’s a dog on the napping chaise or sprawled across the couch. Sometimes, the reading corner chaise becomes the pack my suitcase corner. Sometimes, the corner’s are just empty spaces where no one sits, or rests, reads or writes or be’s.

Let’s sit awhile and have a chat corner

Yet still, each corner holds its space in time.

The ‘Put your shoes on’ corner in the entrance..

Sometimes, the space is created because the space was empty and needed to find its purpose or, a chair just fit perfectly and suddenly the corner’s purpose was found.

The ‘Time for a nap’ corner in the living room

It doesn’t matter what use the corner is put to, each corner held space for us, along with family and friends, to savour time. Alone. Together. Apart in the same house. Time to relax. To visit. To connect. To create. Dream. Concoct. Do. Become.

My ‘Creative Work Corner’

Time simply to be present within the moment and space without time or space demanding we be somewhere else, someone else as I explored my creative boundaries, pushing them out to fill spaces I’d never entered before. Spaces, that in their exploration, healing, growth, becoming unfolded with the grace and ease of the river flowing past.

‘I just need some alone time’ corner in the alcove at the bottom of the stairs

Life is filled with corners, straight roads and curves, bumps and potholes, alleys and detours.

In life, like the corners of our home, when we are willing to shift and change, adapt and adopt, embrace and reject the things that work and those that don’t, our path rises up to greet us with opportunities to rest and relax, sit awhile and visit, meditate and savour time alone, create and dream, do and become.

As we prepare to leave this home for another, I carry with me memories of how in each of these corners, magic awoke and I found myself once again embraced by this home we created together. This home that has held us so loving and joyfully for seven years.

Soon, it will hold others in its embrace as they create their own corners and spaces to be at home.

Awakening (a poem)

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Between getting the house ready for sale and the endless stream of viewings, as well as being away for almost two weeks, life’s been a whirlwind! 😅 Like a sailor waiting for the wind, or a surfer for that perfect wave, we’re patiently (and sometimes not-so-patiently!) waiting for the right buyer to walk through our door. The uncertainty is definitely challenging, but it’s the constant “viewing ready” mode that’s truly exhausting! 🤪

And here’s the thing. Amidst the packing and clearing out, the visiting family and walking on the beach and playing with my grandchildren and baking bread for my daughter and lazing on the patio sipping wine and talking late into the night, I’ve realized that stressing about every little detail just isn’t worth it.

Life is too short to worry about fingerprints on the counters or pillows not being perfectly fluffed. I’m choosing to trust the process, and focus on living each day with passion and purpose. Cooking, laughing, and enjoying my home are back on the menu! 🥳

Because, here’s the thing… In the midst of all the chaos, I realized I have not been doing the things I know nurture and sustain me. I’ve avoided being here, writing, painting and a host of other things I love to do, that de-pressurize my state of mind, and set my heart free and my spirits soaring.

it’s time to reignite the spark! 🔥 To dream and create and explore and expand.💖

It’s time to let magic happen! ✨ It’s time to begin again and let dreams unfold and spirits rise.

Awakening

Awakening
by Louise Gallagher

Moments of sudden clarity, 
like waking from a dreamless sleep
after days spent sleepwalking, 
blind and deaf to the beauty all around.

Dark thoughts cloud the mind, 
a heavy fog obscuring the light 
beneath inertia's suffocating blanket. 
Unannounced,
a crack appears, sunlight floods in.

Warmth chases away the shadows,
fear retreats, slithering back into the darkness.
Hope blossoms in the open space,
a fragile flower pushing through the concrete.

The prison of stagnation crumbles,
the chains of self-doubt fall away.
Dreams reawaken, vibrant and alive.
No longer afraid of falling,
I rise. 
Sails full of promise, 
I soar.

On Loss and Love

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The silky silence of night before the dawn envelops me as I sit on the deck listening to the rustling leaves of the riverbank trees. Frustrated by waking at 3am, I have come out here to savour the early morning stillness in the hopes that my mind will quieten and sleep return.

On my tiny portable speaker, which I’ve carried outside for company, the familiar melody of “Fields of Gold” wafts softly through the air, a song forever intertwined with the memory of my sister’s Ceremony of Life last December. Unexpectedly, tears well up in my eyes, tears I thought had long since dried. Sadness, a ghost I believed banished, returns with a vengeance.

Questions swirl in my mind, demanding answers: “How do you heal an emotion? How does letting it flow ease the pain when it is the very act of letting go that hurts so much?”

Perhaps the healing lies not in erasing the pain, but in embracing it. Maybe the tears are not a sign of weakness, but a testament to the depth of love that refuses to fade. And maybe, just maybe, the rustling leaves carry a whispered message from my sister, reminding me that even in absence, love endures, echoing in the fields of gold forever etched upon my heart.

On Loss and Love
by Louise Gallagher

Death
A darkening horizon
known, unwelcome, denied
the final, silent breath.

Grief
A ravenous beast
unbidden, fickle, relentless
gnawing at peace of mind

Sorrow
A river's endless flow
carving canyons in the void of loss
the search for solace's shore.

Acceptance
A tapestry woven of tears
each memory a shimmering thread
Love's enduring light.

Will You Dare?

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I awaken from a dream, words flowing effortlessly. I surrender to the current, carried along by the momentum of change.

Big changes are upon us. C.C. and I are selling our beloved home, venturing towards the coast, towards sea level. We seek a sanctuary where his breath can find ease, where the COPD’s barbed-wire grip on his lungs might loosen.

In the midst of preparing our house for the market, it’s easy to forget to breathe. Even without the physical constraints of barbed wire, anxiety can constrict my own lungs.

The vastness of possibilities unfolding before us can get lost amidst the mundane tasks of decluttering and sorting through years of memories. Photos, trinkets, and bookshelves overflowing with stories—each a testament to the life we’ve built together.

This home, lovingly crafted to embrace our family, friends, and furry companions, holds countless tales. Laughter echoing over anger, joy enveloping sorrow, love nourishing us through it all.

Amidst the chaos, it’s easy to forget that this adventure—this journey towards the unknown—has always been our life together.

Will You Dare?
by Louise Gallagher

Morning  intrigue,
a room full of doors, 
some flung wide, 
sunlit and warm
with possibilities beckoning
others cracked slightly open,
curiosity whispering an invitation, 
a door shut tight, 
locked-up secrets lurking, 
silent and foreboding.

Beyond each threshold, a mystery 
unfolding
birdsong, 
a city's hum,
the thrum of rain on distant fields
a voice, a scream, a cry, a laugh, silence.

Somewhere, a rooster crows
morning awakens
dawn flees
the day awaits.

Which door will you choose? 
Which unknown path 
will you dare to tread?

What Gets Better with Age?

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The title of this post is today’s daily question asked by the auto-prompter on WordPress. Good question.

As a child, I believed life improved with age. While that’s largely true, some things, like the scar under my chin from trying to reload a BeBe gun while resting my chin on it, don’t get better—they get richer in stories. Life, it turns out, is a blend of growth and weathering, where some edges soften and others gain character.

Of course, some of that growth can become evident on our bodies. Grey hair, wrinkles, sagging skin, widening hips and fuller bellies tell their own stories of time’s passage. Inside me, however, are the invisible signs of how deep my roots grow and how wise my years have become.

These inner changes aren’t always visible in the mirror, but they are etched into my soul. I’ve come to realize that some of life’s most precious treasures don’t tarnish with time. In fact, they often appreciate in value, much like a beloved antique passed down through generations.

Take, for instance, the understanding I have of myself. It’s no longer a fleeting reflection in a pond, but a deep dive into the ocean of my being. I know what makes my heart sing, what triggers my anxieties, and what fuels my passions. These insights, earned through years of self-reflection and lived experience, (not to mention a whole lot of therapy, personal growth courses and a whole library of self-help books) are like pearls gathered from the depths.

Every mountain scaled, every stumble along the path, has etched itself into the tapestry of my being. Whether a soaring triumph or a humbling tumble, each step of my journey has woven threads of wisdom and resilience into my life’s fabric. As I unearth the hidden treasures within each experience, I find myself lighter, shedding the burdens that once weighed me down, and richer in the boundless currency of joy, gratitude, and love.

My relationships have undergone a similar transformation, with some fading like old photographs and others deepening and strengthening like weathered oak trees. I’ve learned to cherish the connections that nourish my soul and to gracefully let go of those that no longer bring me joy. This discernment, born of time and wisdom, is a gift I wouldn’t trade for youthful naivety.

Even my perception of the world has shifted. The black-and-white landscapes of my youth have given way to a kaleidoscope of colors, textures, and perspectives. I’ve come to appreciate the complexity of human nature, the interconnectedness of all things, and the delicate balance between joy and sorrow. This nuanced understanding is like a mosaic, pieced together from countless shards of experience, with each experience contributing to the masterpiece that is becoming, wth every passing day, the story of my life — a life full of Joy. Gratitude. and Love.

What about you? What do you think grows better with age?

A New Morning Ritual: Blessing the Departed

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I started something new this morning – a practice inspired by Lynda Watson, host of the “Inspire Me Forward” podcast and author of “The Book of Realizations.”

Lynda recently invited me to join her on the podcast (thank you, Lynda!), and she shared a few past episodes she thought I might enjoy. I love how genuine and present Lynda is in her interviews. In one episode, she hosted a panel discussion called, “On Death, Dying, and Grief,” which was both moving and inspiring.

Right at the start of the discussion, Lynda invited listeners to place a hand on their heart and simply bless those who are gone. That small act inspired my new morning ritual.

Blessing the Departed

Now, at the beginning of my morning meditation, as soon as I’ve lit my candle, I place my hand on my heart, gaze into the flame and send a blessing to my ancestors, loved ones, and all those who have departed from my world.

In blessing those who have gone before, we bless ourselves with love and remembrance.

This practice resonates deeply within me and with what I teach in my 8 week The ReWrite Journey online course: the importance of learning and trying new things. Embracing ‘the new’, reminding ourselves of our capacity to continually learn and grow, helps us break free from routine and the stultifying belief ‘we’ve done it all’, keeping us vibrant, energetic, and full of life.

“Blessing the Departed” is not something I’d ever considered before, but after doing it for just two days, I feel the soft, ethereal beauty of the blessing enveloping me with love.

An Invitation

I invite you to try this simple yet powerful ritual. It’s a lovely form of self-nourishment and a beautiful way to start the day, connecting with those who came before us and sending love into the world.

The Magic in our Roots: A Legacy of Love, Creativity, and Possibility

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The women of my past – my grandmothers, Rachel and Ivy – are mysteries to me. I barely knew them. Yet, their echoes live on, whispering in the cadence of my words, the artistry of my hands, and the flutter of my granddaughter’s fingers as she spins tales of fairies and dragons.

It’s funny how life weaves its threads. My father, a man of few words, was a poet on paper, his love letters to my mother filled with yearning and a breezy charm I never witnessed firsthand. Yet, from him, I inherited the gift of words, the power to paint emotions and experiences onto the page. From my mother, I learned to create beauty, to transform spaces into dreamscapes, and to find joy in the artistic dance of life.

My mother wasn’t one for reality. “I don’t like reality,” she’d say, and I find myself echoing her sentiment when asked to paint on commission. Like mother, like daughter, we find our truth in the realms of imagination and possibility.

Watching my granddaughter celebrate her fourth birthday, I see her mother at that age – the same fluttering hands, the same secret smiles as if listening to the unspoken stories of the heart. And I realize, this is our legacy. It’s in the dreams we weave, the stories we tell, the beauty we create, and the boundless love we share.

As I immerse myself in the wonder of my grandchildren’s world, I feel the roots of my family tree deepening, nourished by the fertile soil of their imagination. In their laughter, their play, their boundless creativity, I see the promise of a future where anything is possible. Where stories unfold, dreams take flight, and the human spirit flourishes.

For in the heart of a child, and the stories we weave together, lies the true magic of life – a legacy that transcends time, connecting us to our past, enriching our present, and shaping our future.

Namaste