Category Archives: Essential Journey

33 years and I’m so in love.

Posted on by
6

Alexis aged 2ish

I remember the first time I heard my daughter cry. She was still in the womb. The doctor had just cut me open to bring her into the world and she cried before they could lift her out of the protective cocoon of my body.

I remember the feeling of my heart leaping out of my body, of wanting to still her cries, of wanting to hold her forever, to never let her go, to always keep her safe.

And I remember how helpless I felt in that same moment when I realized I couldn’t stop her cries, couldn’t keep her within my body forever. That this was the challenge I would face for the rest of her life, to love her and to let her go.

I remember thinking that my job as her mother wasn’t to stop her from growing but to create safe places for her to experience life, in all its complexities, ups, downs and sticky places too.

I remember realizing that life is its own journey and that the greatest gift I could give her would be the confidence to navigate hers independent of the lifeline of the umbilical cord that had connected us for those 9 magical months I held her safe within my womb.

And I remember the pain of having to acknowledge I was not all powerful over her life, and couldn’t, shouldn’t, mustn’t be.

I remember when I realized that even though she was separate from my body she would always have my heart, always be a part of me. That I was forever changed because of her presence in this world. A presence that was made possible because of the mystery and magic of this evolutionary process called birthing life.

That moment of hearing her cry inside the womb was 33 years ago this Wednesday. I heard her cry at 10:38pm. And, ever since that moment, I have experienced the incredible joy and fear of being her mother.

Joy because she is so miraculous, so magical, so incredibly unique and special and wondrous.

Fear because I cannot protect her from all harm. Cannot prevent the world from invading her life in ways I cannot conceive of, in ways that will challenge her, stretch her, break her, and ultimately strengthen her.

My eldest daughter turns 33 this week. In the 12,037 days that she will have been on this earth come June 19th, there is not a moment that I have not given her my heart, given her my love or wanted only love, safety and joy for her.

And while I know that I have always wanted only those things for her, I also know I have been the cause of pain, confusion, fear, anxiety, loss, separation in her life.

It is all part of life. Part of being a parent. Part of giving birth to a miraculous being of light and love; to want only the best for her, and to have my humanness be the cause of her pain.

Alexis turns 33 this week. I am so blessed to call her my daughter. To witness her journey from infant to child to teen to young woman to mother.

Becoming a mother was more than just bringing a child into this world. It has been the most excruciatingly beautiful journey I have ever had the privilege of experiencing. It has been a journey of unprecedented joy, of incredible love, of finding myself beyond the realm of who I thought I was as I became what I never imagined I could ever be, a mother and a grandmother.

I am so blessed.

It’s Gonna Be A Bright, Bright Sunny Day

Posted on by
12

I am off today for a sojourn by the sea.

My lovely friend Wendy C. and I are driving out to the coast together. First, we’ll be stopping in the Shuswap to visit a former co-worker and his wife and to do some wine tasting. And then, I’ll be spending a couple of weeks with my daughter, son-in-love and… the light of my heart, my grandson.

Yes. Yes. I know. Others bring light and lightness to my heart, but nobody does it like my grandson. He’s special.

I didn’t realize, before I became his YiaYa, how incredible a gift it was to become a grandparent.

But then, I do not know what I do not know until I discover it.

Becoming a grandmother was like that. I thought it would be lovely. I thought it would be special.

How special, I had no idea.

And now I do. And now, I get to spend a couple of weeks with him sharing our own special time as my daughter has just begun a new job. How amazing is that? I get to spend time with Thurlow and be of service to my daughter and son-in-love helping them out as they figure out their childcare and get into the swing of being two working parents with a young child.

What it also means is that my time here will be sporadic over the next few weeks. I have no timetable to follow, other than I need to be back home by July 17. C.C. is his normal easy-going self, not asking for a return date, just smiling and nodding his head at my desire to have an unscheduled plan.

It is refreshing. This going with no plan.

Yesterday, as I was organizing my clothes, I took the time to wash a couple of tops by hand. I have not had open-spaced time to wash things by hand in a long, long time. It was relaxing. Enjoyable even.

Over the past week, Beaumont and I have had early morning walks along the river, I’ve had a couple of afternoon naps, I’ve even spent a bit of time in the studio — and I’m hoping when I’m back to be spending more time there. Right now, we have a carpenter here building a door to the studio and doing some work on C.C.s’ den — so being in the studio has not been all that easy, nor peaceful.

And that’s been okay. I’ve savoured my adventures, my time to simply decompress.

Last night, as C.C. and I sat on the deck (I skunked him at Crib btw! 🙂 ) I told him how I don’t miss work. The stress. The sense of always being on alert about what might happen next which seemed to pervade my being. The responsibility.

I miss the people but not the work.

For a long time my friend, Kerry Parsons, who is the founder of The Academy for Rising Women, suggested I disconnect from the pain body as it was draining me, not fulfilling me. Don’t tell her I said so, but… I think she was right!

I loved the work I did, but after almost 14 years in the sector, the constant exposure to the losses and trauma of poverty and homelessness had permeated my being, seeping into my essence, clouding my senses like smoke from a wildfire.

What I am realizing is that while I felt joy, my joy was tempered with the constant realization of the lack that exists in our world, and my sense of needing to ‘fix it all’.

No one person can ‘fix it all’. Together we can make a difference. That difference needs to be predicated on an awareness that becoming so enmeshed in the cause we forget to look up, see the sunshine and savour the warmth and light it brings, is not healthy for anyone!

Today, I feel like Johnny Nash singing his 70’s hit, “I Can See Clearly Now”.

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.
I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I’ve been prayin’ for
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.
Look all around, there’s nothin’ but blue skies
Look straight ahead, nothin’ but blue skies

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

Songwriters: Kenneth Gamble / Leon Huff
I Can See Clearly Now lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

I don’t know what I don’t know until I discover something new, different, another way of being, another perspective.

I thought I was doing okay. And on so many levels, I was. What I didn’t know was that my okay was not the better I seek to create in the world because I was allowing my doing to get the better of me.

I can see clearly now. Doing the ‘hard work’ at the frontlines of poverty and homelessness is important and vital in this world. It’s also important and vital that those who do the work, take time out to give themselves the space and freedom to see clearly that ‘the work’ is not the only thing there is to be done to create better in this world.

Namaste

See you when I see you! ❤

What if…?

Posted on by
13

She never imagined she could fly, until one day she dared to believe… in herself.

Where once I was counting down the weeks until my ‘last day’, I am now counting off the weeks of my ‘new way’.

Week 1. Done.  Check. Next.

It makes me smile, (satirically) at myself.

(I do find myself quite amusing sometimes, in a not so funny but oh so human way!)

I am always looking for ‘the next thing’ because being present in this moment, without anticipation of what the next will bring, can be challenging.

I want to know. To have clarity. Certainty.

Life, especially as an artist, is not about certainty and clarity. It is about doubt and uncertainty – and being okay with it.

Staring at a blank page or canvas is intimidating. Frightening.

What if’s abound.

What if…. I have nothing to write about? What if it’s no good? What if I look stupid? What if nothing comes out when I begin to type? What if my pen runs dry?

What if…. the ideas don’t flow?  What if the canvas is a mess? What if I have no talent? What if I can’t paint and am just fooling myself?

What if…. nobody likes what I create? Nobody reads my words. Nobody cares?

Ultimately, I have to care.

About me. My work. My creativity. My drive to express whatever is yearning to be expressed within me.

Yesterday, I wrote in my journal that one of the things I need to do is to respect ‘my work’ by treating it with the same professionalism, care and respect I treated working for others.

Now that was a bit of a surprise!

The thought that ‘my work’ was as valid and meaningful, and important, as the work I did out there, in the world, for others.

An interesting thought worth exploring.

What would happen if I did treat myself with the same respect? If I did turn up on time in my studio and worked like doing my work meant something? Was important to me. Vital even?

What would happen?

I don’t know what could/might/will happen if I do it that way. I do know, not doing it that way would be cheating myself of turning up for me. Not treating it that way would be a choice.

It’s a choice I’m not willing to take.

And so, while I am going unscripted for the next 3 months, I shall also be creating a new script for how I turn up for me, on the blank page and the canvas.

This morning, as I wrote my morning pages, ideas for a novel I didn’t know I was considering writing began to form.

Another bit of surprise on this rainy morning!

In my life I have written two complete novels.

I did little with both.

What if…. I decided to treat myself and my creative expressions with professionalism, care and respect.

What if… I decided my work matters?

Pondering as I begin again to create the mindfield of my next adventure in my life.

Namaste.

 

 

 

Fear is the Opportunity to Awaken

Posted on by
4

Front Cover

I am practising the art of “begin again“.

For years, I dutiflly wrote my ‘morning pages’, the art of writing it out every morning as proscribed by Julia Cameron in “The Artist’s Way”.

For years more, I let it go.

I loved writing my morning pages, but… but… but…. Blogging. Busyness. Basically telling myself I didn’t need to, kept me off the habit of my morning pages.

Unscripted time welcomed me back. Particularly as I don’t have a deadline in the mornings in which to get it all completed. I only have… time in its endless flow.

I have begun again.

This morning, as I sat and wrote, I invited my mind to stop ‘forming thoughts’ and to simply let whatever thoughts were swimming about in my head become visible on the page. The words formed and I smiled as I saw the theme emerge: Believe.

Yesterday, as I sat in my studio and created simply for the sake of creating, a booklet created itself. Its theme:  Believe.

Everything is connected to everything.

For much of my life I feared ‘dreaming’. Feared planning my own life built on my own dreams because… well there are a whole lot of deep psychological roadblocks that formed as little speedbumps when I was a child and kept getting built bigger and bigger as I encountered life’s challenges and disappointments.

Needless to say, countless hours of therapy, breath work, group work, writing it out, talking it out and self-actualizing it out have diminished the roadblocks. Now they’re simply speedbumps that are easy to navigate as long as I consciously drive with my intention to live fearlessly in this moment gripped firmly in my hands, heart, mind, body and spirit.

The 9-to-5 was perfect for someone afraid of dreaming. It gave me a destination. A plan. A purpose. It gave me structure.

Set free, I met my fear opening up in my morning pages. At its root, my fear of dreaming.

And I smile.

Fear is the opportunity to awaken.

My fear lives in my mind. I am in control of what I feed my mind. Healthy, empowering thoughts, or garbage.

My choice.

I’m choosing morning pages, bright sunlight and a steady diet of clarifying my dreams so that I can create the structure that will support their fruition.

It’s an exciting journey. I can feel it in my bones, my blood, my body.

And I smile again. I’m obviously into the 3 B’s this morning.  (Yup! I do amuse myself!)

I’ve put the book I made on the desk beside my computer. It is my reminder to believe. In me. Life. Possibility. And in that belief, to follow my dreams, my heart, my desire to create. My desire to make a difference in this world by inspiring others to connect with their creative core and express themselves freely.

I don’t know what the outcome will look like, and that’s okay. For now, I am allowing what is percolating to bubble up and become expressed, however it chooses to be expressed.

In that expression, I am creating clarity. With clarity, purpose follows. And in that inspiring space, my dreams will follow and I will follow my dreams.

Namaste.

 

 

 

First, rest a bit.

Posted on by
13

My youngest daughter asked me yesterday, “So… how’s tomorrow looking?”

We were sitting on the deck in the evening light, chatting before dinner. C.C.’s daughter, Lele and her partner. C.C. answered for me first, “It’s looking just fine.”

I smiled.

Because it’s true. Monday looks fine.

Blue sky stretches into infinity. Clouds scuttle across its endless depths, going nowhere but where the wind blows. The river flows eastward, towards a distant sea and I am here, looking out at the trees and the river flowing past.

All is well with my soul.

On Friday, the imitable Mark Kolke commented on my post that the first order of business is to ‘rest a bit’ and then, get busy. The world is waiting.

Mark asked an interesting question… “What are your expectations for your life?”

Now, I tend to hesitate when it comes to ‘expectations’ because often, expectations can be premeditated disappointments, especially when I’m holding them about others.

But what about for myself?

Are my personal expectations of me designed to inspire me to live life fully, to reach my goals and dreams or are they designed to keep me reaching for a non-achievable perfection, thus setting myself up for disappointment, frustration, angst?

Good question.

Perhaps it’s not ‘what are my expectations for my life’ but rather, what are my expectations of me?

My expectations for my life are based on how I move through my life each day. I don’t expect my life to be anything other than an amazing journey, an incredible adventure. It will have highs and lows. Moments of great satisfaction, moments of frustration and doubt. Moments where I’ll wish I’d turned left instead of right, and moments when I find myself exactly where I wanted to be on my path, breathing deeply in the peace and serenity of the moment I’m in.

My expectation of me is, I shall live this adventure of my life with arms wide open, heart beating wildly and thoughts on fire with possibility as I dance with abandon in a world of Love, harmony, and joy.

I shall weather life’s inevitable storms with the same grace and ease I exude in life’s more tranquil moments. I shall face adversity with courage. I shall walk with integrity. I shall be true to me and above all, I shall be kind.

It is Monday today. I don’t have to go to work. I get to savour the moment without a timeline. I have plans, I have ideas, I have a vision of what I want to do next, but first, I must rest a bit.

 

 

Lessons from a Pooch: Life is a gift. Live it up!

Posted on by
6

There is a place and a time for all things. Yet, so often, I want that place and that time to be of my choosing, not someone else’s or even nature’s or the universe.

Being patient, taking care and allowing what is present for someone else to also be present in our shared space is one of those great lessons of having a fur-child that just keeps repeating itself, again and again

Last night, was tough for Beaumont. My back has been out since last weekend. My head says, stay still. Beau says, keep moving. I did not want to get up and go for a walk, even though the evening was so gorgeous. Beau didn’t give up on me and in his persistence, reminded me once again about the most important things in life, love and living.

Lesson 1

Be patient, persistent and stay optimistic.

There’s nothing like a dog sitting on the floor beside you, eyes peering steadily at you, body alert and still, while you’re lying on the couch feeling sorry for yourself. Beau reminds me to get up, get moving and stop feeling sorry for myself. And he never gives up until I get up and give him what he wants. Which is gernally always — A walk.  We both win from that one!

Lesson 2

Have fun

Having fun is not an interlude from life. It is part of life. Just like with work or any endeavour, it’s important to take time to stop and breathe. And if you happen to be playing with someone else, like your best friend Spirit, when you get over-excited (or forgetful about your manners (really Beau, that’s Spirit’s ball), you gotta take a break. Otherwise, like with so many things, fun becomes not so fun and then, fun’s all over!

Lesson 3

Don’t sweat the hot stuff.

Baby, it’s hot out there, chill out. Put your feet up, sit with your feet in a bucket of cold water, or better yet, run into the shallows at the river’s edge and splash! Splash! Splash! Splashing about is fun, and who cares if the floor gets wet and muddy when you get home? That’s why they invented mops.

Lesson 4

Not everyone’s business is your business.

Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. Not everyone wants to have their butt sniffed, especially the cat when she comes to visit. Back-off and give people (furry friends too) their space.  In that space there’s lots to discover about eachother that will make the relationship so much more fun and enriching! (Like who wants to chase. Who wants to be chased. Dogs intuitively know without getting all caught up in who’s who at the park).

Lesson 5

Begin again

This one’s from puppydom but still holds true today. When you make a mistake, don’t get all bent out of shape. Begin again.   Like when Beau was a puppy. Just because it hadn’t happened for awhile, didn’t mean he was all house-broken, especially in new and different spaces where other doggies were present. Or like when there’s a bone or a toy in your bed. Be kind. Be compassionate. (Remember Lesson 1) –  Clean up the mess, move the bone off the bed and begin again. Enough said.

Lesson 6

Life is a Gift. Live it Up!

This is the most important lesson Beau teaches me every day. We only have this one life to live right now, don’t waste time dragging yourself through the past or worrying about what the future will bring. The present is in the now and the gifts of being present are filled with bounty and abundance. Be grateful for all you have. Count your blessings and share them with abandon. Your world, and all the world around you, will be richer for your willingness to live right now on the wild side of being alive!

She is Coming Home.

Posted on by
11

She is coming home today.

Since she came into creation four years ago, she has hung in my office, a reminder to always give voice — to truth, kindness, compassion, justice, integrity.

Today she comes home.

There are fewer than a handful of paintings I’ve created that I am not willing to part with. She is one of them.

I call her my Spirit Voice.

She sings to my heart, my body, my soul, my spirit to always speak up. To not give into the voices of doubt, criticism, fear.

To sing, loud and clear (or as clear as my voice will sing — but there’s no judgement with Spirit Voice so clearly I sing!) To call out to my dreams, to the Universe, to all who will listen to come, join me on this field of possibility where we can dance together in a world of love, harmony and joy.

Today I begin to dismantle my office. In its coming apart I come together with my dreams of next steps, future visions. Rejuvenation.

Today, I dismantle one space to begin the creation of a new space where my world becomes a daily leap into the world of possibiity, setting off landmines of opportunity with every step.

I have loved my work. Loved the opportunity to give back to community and to those for whom poverty and homelessness have stolen so much.

I too once felt the despair of losing everything. I too was lost.

It took a community to bring me back to life. I am grateful to have been part of that community for others.

And, while my retirement from the formal work force doesn’t mean an end of that work, it does mean a change. A change I cannot at this point see, nor wish to discern.

I am entering my last four days of ‘formal work’. I stand in this liminal space and draw in a deep breath of gratitude.

Over 13 years ago, I stepped into an office at a homeless shelter and began this part of my working journey. Being a voice for those whose voices have been drowned out by the harshness and challenges of homelessness has been one of the greatest and most humbling opportunities I have ever had in my working career.

During that time I have been gifted with hearing and carrying countless stories of those who were swept away by the raging waters of homelessness only to find themselves safely on shore because of the countless many who line the banks and wade into the waters to help them reach the safety of solid ground.

And, during that time, I have been changed by ‘the work’.

Changed and moved. Humbled. Broken. Healed.  Forever made better as a human being.

Working  in the homeless-serving sector has taught me about true compassion. It has taught me that we are not our differences. We are all connected through this condition we call being human.  It has taught me about judgement. Privilege. Scarcity. Humility. Courage. Strength. Hope. Love.

And, it has taught me about our human will to live.

When I first started working in this sector people always asked me, “Isn’t it depressing?”

“No,” I’d reply. “Every morning hundreds of people whose lives I may not understand awaken and get up and take another step and another. I may not always agree with the steps they take, but every one of those steps is a testament to their fight for their life and their will to live. That is inspiring.”

She is coming home today. My Spirit Voice.

With her home-coming I carry with me all my hopes and dreams, aspirations and ideas for what my future will look like.

No matter what I do, what happens, what dreams may come, I will carry with me always the lessons I’ve learned, the stories I’ve heard and the people I’ve met who have made my life so incredibly rich, vibrant and fulfilling.

I am grateful.

Namaste.

___________

The reference to ‘Little One” is an ode to my father whose nickname for me as a young girl was, “Little One.”

What Comfort Zone?

Posted on by
9

I played in the studio last night. Experimented with colour and design, letting myself simply wander through fields of possibility with no clear intent to ‘create a piece of art’, but rather, to be immersed in the simple joy of being present in the creative process.

It was awesome!

So awesome in fact, that, when I woke up at 3am it’s because somewhere in my dreams I remembered that in giving myself permission to play, I had missed our Home Owner’s Association AGM last night. Ooops. It was in my calendar. I just didn’t look at my calendar and neither did C.C. who was suffering from an infected tooth and had spent most of the day in bed after going to the dentist! (I’m also giving myself full marks because I didn’t wake C.C. up to tell him we’d missed the meeting!) 🙂

For me, it’s a sign that as I enter my final five days of ‘formal’ work, I am either a) getting so relaxed I’m not even bothering to look at my calendar, or, b)  am so stressed I am not remembering to check my calendar.

I’m opting for A. Especially as I had a massage before coming home and was feeling all loose and fluid like a wet noodle.

My decision last night to ‘create without any expectation of outcome other than to have fun’ was therapeutic.

As I wind down at work, I am also unwinding some of the psychological knots that are the inevitable outcome of being in a high-stress role and environment. Most of the knots are founded in my ego’s desire to feel important, or to be appreciated and the critter’s nattering that I’m not.

In my post playful state, I smile and reply, “Who cares?”

I know that throughout my career, and in particular, throughout these last 13 years of having worked in the homeless-serving sector, I have done my best, given my all to create an environment for everyone to seek possibility, be their true selves and contribute their best. No matter my position, I have made decisions that worked well. Some that did not. I have created change that had significant positive impact and some that continue to evolve to find their impact.

In my final role of Interim Executive Director I was given the gift of leadership that allowed me to grow and stretch and learn and discover things about myself I never knew. As I leave the formal workforce, it is a gift to have had the opportunity to leave on such a high note.

What could be better than that?

And still, the critter hisses his silliness. Silly guy. Doesn’t he realize I am okay just the way I am, exactly where I am? Doesn’t he know that I am completely aware that his concerns are simply the lesser/fearful part of me wanting to protect me from stepping even further out of my comfort zone?

Which is why I have created a new motto for myself… What Comfort Zone?

I like it.

It’s short and to the point. A perfect reminder to my critter and my creative to get comfortable in a world of no limits, no walls, no comfort zones, no barriers. I am kicking up my heels and kicking down the walls to set myself free to play in the field of possibilities that exists when I let go of taking myself so seriously I think what I do in the world is what matters most.

It’s not.

What matters most is how I am in this world.

Now please, don’t get me wrong. I feel incredibly blessed and grateful for the creative gifts I’ve been given. But, if I create with ego-centric expectations that the world owes me something because of my creations, I am undermining the more of what I want to create in the world — beauty, joy, hope, laughter, grace, kindness, Love.

Ultimately, it’s not about the things we create, it’s about the joy we bring and find in every creative moment and encounter. The kindness and grace we share. The love and laughter we set free. It’s about being authentic and true to ourselves and creating space for others to be their true selves too.

We can create a world of beauty, joy, kindness and Love.

It begins with each of us choosing to live true to the kind of world we want to create and letting go of the idea that it’s our creations that matter most.

And as to missing the AGM, I can’t change missing it. Ultimately, my forgetfulness was a reflection of my realization deep within me that I needed to find my lightness of being so I can step outside my comfort zone and stop taking myself so seriously in the world around me.

 

The bridge from impossible to possible.

Posted on by
5

 

When I was first released from that relationship from hell, I wanted desperately to heal my relationship with my daughters,

I had done a lot of things over the course of those almost 5 years that had hurt them deeply, betrayed their trust and caused them enormous pain.

It was tempting to stay in my victim place of ‘it was all his fault. He was a liar, manipulator, abuser” but the fact is, I was 100% accountable for everything I’d done and said that caused them pain.

Only I could do the work to regain their trust and ultimately, their forgiveness.

In the first tumultous, foggy days of my freedom, it didn’t seem possible.

How could they ever forgive me when I couldn’t forgive myself? And that’s when I realized, everything is possible when I begin with forgiveness.

Forgiving myself was hard until one day I decided to make it easy. I decided that the only path to forgiveness was to just keep repeating the statement, “I forgive myself.” No qualifications. No timelines. No repitition of the litany of my transgressions. At times, the list felt so long I feared I’d be buried beneath its weight. Carrying that weight didn’t feel like a healthy thing to do. It definitely didn’t fit on the path to healing so, I let the list go and simply stated, many, many times a day, every time a thought of my ‘unforgiveness’ entered my mind, “I forgive myself.”

I did the same with thoughts of him. I put up imaginary STOP signs in my mind and reminded myself whenever a thought of him entered, “He is not part of my life today. STOP.” And I’d turn my thoughts from ‘him’ to what I needed to do, right now in this moment, to create healing and light in my life.

And then, I breathed and did whatever that healing thing was.

And with every breath and every action I blew life into my dream of reconnecting with my daughters, of returning to that place of grace where we shared our lives, laughed and chattered together, ate meals together, watched movies, danced, sang, shared stories and adventures. That place where I was blessed to applaud them and cheer them on every step of their journey in life.

It wasn’t a straight line to healing.

It wasn’t a continuous one step forward, never looking back.

The past had such a significant hold on my psyche I had to sometimes look back to cut the threads that kept entwining themselves around my feet, sneaking up into my thoughts in moments of despair and doubt when it felt like their forgiveness was an impossible dream and I would never again know their love.

I cannot say the moment when I knew I was healed or that our relationship was all better. Healing is an ongoing process. Better is a relative term. What I can say is that in having journeyed on that road to hell and come back into the light of living this life right now in loving kindness and joy, our lives are far different and we are all much stronger than we were, even before he walked into our lives.

Sometime ago, my youngest daughter told someone that she didn’t regret that experience. While it was hard, it made us all stronger. I agree.

A couple of years ago, my eldest daughter, Alexis, and I shared our story of healing and recovery at a one day conference. Working on that presentation together was challenging. So many pains from the past to walk through to get to the beauty of today. So many moments when thoughts of  ‘if only I’d taken a different path, the road would have led somewhere else’, slithered into my thoughts. As we wrote and talked and wrote some more, I was constantly reminded, “I cannot change the past. I can heal the future when I walk in forgiveness and love today.”

Even today there are moments when triggers from the past flip open, or something will happen in one of my daughters lives and I will immediately leap to thinking it was a in some way connected to what happened in the ‘then and there’. In those sticky places, I must spend a few moments in forgiveness, reminding myself “I forgive me”, and then, I must breathe deeply and get present in the loving kindness of the here and now.

Once upon a time, I fell in love with Prince Charming and instead of finding myself on the road to happiily-ever after, I woke up on the road to hell.

Once upon a time, I believed someone else could make my dreams come true.

Today, I no longer believe in making fairytales come true or that someone else is responsible for my dreams or my happiness.

Today, I believe in me.

I believe in Love and I believe dreams can come true, even when they feel impossible, when we walk our path with truth and dignity, kindness and forgiveness as our guides.

And I believe we must all let go of the things that would have us believe we are not good enough, not worthy or deserving so that we can fall unequivocally into Love with ourselves, our life and everyone in it.

Namaste.

______________________________

This the video of the presentation Alexis and I gave.


 

May 21. A day like any other. A day like no other.

Posted on by
17

Last night, as I was out walking with Beaumont, it struck me what day today is. May 21.

It was on this morning in 2003 that I got the miracle that set me free.

For the final 3 and a half months of an almost five year relationship that had been killing me, I was missing. My daughters, family, friends, even the police didn’t know where I was. And I was too afraid to let anyone know.

I only had one job in those dark days, and that was to be the person he told me I had to be. To do the things he told me I had to do. Say the things he told me I must.

And so I did.

I was lost.

To myself. To those I loved and who loved me. To the world. I was lost.

And then, at 9:14am, on this day in 2003 a police car drove up and arrested the man who’d promised to love me ’til death do us part and was taking the death part into his own hands.

And I let him.

I didn’t want to live. Didn’t believe I deserved to live. I only believed what he told me. I was worthless. Nothing. Garbage. I didn’t deserve to live.

I write those words this morning and I embrace that woman who was so lost. I embrace her and love her and remind her, she is so worthy. Of love. Of joy. Of LIFE.

And my heart knows it’s true. I am worthy.

Recently someone asked me about what they should do about someone they know, not well, but whom they believe is in an abusive relationship. Should I intervene they asked?

I remember my friends who tried to intervene. Their care and concern, their love hurt. How could they still love me when he told me every day how worthless I was? Could they not see their love was wasted on me?

It isn’t just our sense of direction, our knowing of self and our worth that is lost when we are in the darkness of an abusive relatiopship, I told this person. It is our hearing and our capacity to understand that what is happening to us is not happening because we deserve it, or caused it. It’s because the abuser is choosing to use violence and emotional blackmail to ensnare us and keep us trapped in the web of their lies and manipulation and fear.

And in our deafness, even when someone who loves us tells us we deserve a life without the abuser, we cannot hear them because to hear them would mean the love we imagined in those first fairy-tale days of our romance is not true.

It wasn’t until I was released from that living hell that I realized the truth. I wasn’t healing from a love gone wrong. I was healing from abuse.

I was very, very fortunate. Because of friends who did not give up on making sure the police kept looking for me, the police found me and I was set free.

That is not the case for other women. Every 2.5 days one woman or girl is killed in Canada. The majority by someone they know intimtely or well, which is the opposite for men, the majority of whom, the data shows, are killed by casual acquaintances. Source

Today is May 21. It is a day like any other. A day to laugh and smile. To spend time with friends and family. To work. To play. To be free.

And for me, it is a day to embrace the woman within me who once upon a time was so lost she didn’t believe she deserved to live. And in that embrace, to tell myself the truth. I am so loveable and deserving of joy. I am a woman of worth. A woman of integrity. A woman who didn’t just survive an abuser but who has gone on to live her life fearlessly in love with everyone and everything in it, daring boldly to live brave, love fiercely, and dance joyfully in each new day dawning.

I am so blessed.