News is full of worries and woes. I awaken. I open the deck doors, letting in the morning sounds: a sealion honking, birds twittering, an eagle cawing, the sea rolling onto the shore. I breathe deeply. Slowly. Softly. Contentment settles. My heart breaks open with delight. The news can wait.
News is full of worries and woes. I awaken. I open the deck doors, letting in the morning sounds: a sealion honking, birds twittering, an eagle cawing, the sea rolling onto the shore. I breathe deeply. Slowly. Softly. Contentment settles. My heart breaks open with delight. The news can wait.
I catch my ego in its act of rebellious denial of reality. Wonder Woman defying Ares. Hands on hips. Feet firmly planted. Chest out. Chin up. Defiance personified. I breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Love rushes in.
And in that place, calmness embraces me. Nothing seems impossible. Love ripples through every act.
The teller motions for me to wait. ‘Please,’ she mouths, her eyes flickering towards the woman on the phone at the money exchange counter. I nod, and step back a bit to give the woman privacy. Our flight to Cabo San Lucas is delayed, and a sense of ease settles over me. I have nowhere else to be.
The woman finishes her call, a tremor in her voice as she thanks the teller. As she turns away, I catch a glimpse of her face, etched with despair. ‘Is she okay?’ I ask, a knot tightening in my stomach. The teller hesitates, then tells me a story…
This woman, who just moments ago stood so close to me, arrived in Canada from India two years ago. Leaving behind her husband and four children, she pursued her Master’s degree in Early Childhood Development. Now, a graduate with a promising career, she’s on her way back to India for a conference. But instead of the joyful reunion she envisioned, she carries the crushing weight of a denied immigration application. She can’t bring her family to Canada, the teller tells me, and she can’t bear to tell her husband, with whom she was speaking, over the phone. It’s a secret she will carry with her until she sees her family the teller tells me with a hushed sadness. I try to imagine the woman’s heartbreak and am sure I am nowhere close to the heaviness she carries.
The contrast is stark. Just yesterday, I was bundled up against the snow, catching ferries from our island home to this bustling airport. Now, the warmth of Mexico beckons, a place of sun-drenched beaches and carefree days. My husband and I are escaping the winter, our hearts light with anticipation. But this woman beside me, she carries a winter in her soul.
I think about her as I wait for our flight. I carry no secrets, no burdens like hers. The injustice of it stings. She worked hard, achieved her goals, and yet her dream of a future with her family in Canada is shattered.
How many others around me, I wonder, are traveling with heavy hearts? Behind the smiles and hurried footsteps, what stories lie hidden?
I return to where my husband waits in the lounge and as I settle into my seat, I can’t shake the image of that woman’s face. I close my eyes and practice a compassion exercise I learned years ago. I picture the man in the seat across from me, his brow furrowed as he reads a book.
Like me, you have known disappointment. Like me, you have experienced loss. Like me, your life has not been all clear skies and sailing. Like me, you are doing your best to live your life with dignity and grace. And like me, you are perfectly human, doing your best on the road of life.
I repeat the words silently, extending the sentiment to the flight attendant with the tired eyes, the young couple laughing iby the windows overlooking the tarmac, and the elderly woman gazing out the window.
We never know the burdens someone is carrying. Let us step lightly through each moment of our day, offering kindness and understanding wherever we go. Perhaps, in doing so, we can help lighten the load, even if just a little, for those whose journeys are a little less carefree than our own.
As my beloved, C.C., and I prepare to list our house for sale (it goes live on Monday!) before our big move to a Gulf Island, I’m neck-deep in the art of decluttering, clearing out, and staging.
Staging is all about creating an illusion of space, especially in smaller homes. But it’s more than that. Our realtor says our location and river view are the stars of the show (we’re not on a floodplain!), yet I still feel the pressure to create a flawless first impression. It’s like dressing for a job interview – your chance to shine.
The sales page with its numerous photos is like your carefully crafted resume – designed to land you an interview. Then, the main living area becomes your in-person presentation: open and inviting, just like your warm smile and genuine interest in the interviewer’s questions. Of course, it’s important to not only look the part, but to act it too—ensuring your “home” reflects the qualities that make it a perfect fit for the lifestyle the buyer envisions just like how you dress for success in an interview makes you a perfect fit for the workplace.
But what about the hidden depths? I’ve tackled every closet, drawer, and cubbyhole, making them presentable and tidy. Yet, just like the quirks beneath a perfectly curated resume, I hope potential buyers don’t dig too deep! We all have our little imperfections…(like the bottles and jars that usually reside beside the sink in the master bath that get tucked away in a drawer for viewings.)
Another early morning has me pondering these parallels, inspired by the quiet whisper of the muse. It’s a reflection on time passing, on moving forward, and on presenting the best version of ourselves – or our homes – to the world.
Let’s see if this resonates with our potential buyers on Monday. Wish us luck!
The poem was written one early morning when I arose at 4 and heeded the muse’s urgings. Words flowed in the silent beauty of dawn’s rosy glow slowly seeping across the horizon.
Have you heard of “Gratitude Lists”? Research confirms that focusing on gratitude increases happiness and joy. I write mine before falling asleep, believing I’ll carry gratitude into my dreams.
Recently, I found a letter my mother wrote to my sisters and me. It was her “good-bye” letter, expressing gratitude and apologizing for any harm she’d caused. “These will be my last words of love you read,” she wrote. “It is time for me to go.” She took her last breath 14 years later.
Life was hard for my mother. As she told me in a visit from the afterlife, “The burdens I carried were too heavy. I never felt free to be myself.” As a child, and beyond, I believed my job was to ‘take the knife out of my mother’s hand.” To be, the good girl, she wanted me to be. Subsequenly, I subconsciously believied I had to conform to others’ will to be liked. Yet, deep within, I knew this was a recipe for a life unlived. Through therapy, courses, journalling, meditation and a host of other self-empowerment supports, I embraced my own agency to live my life on my terms. Yet still, that image of my mother holding a knife to her breast persisted, as did my ping-pong efforts to ‘fit in to be liked’ and to ‘stand out on my own terms’.
Shortly after finding that letter, a dream awoke me to the true power of my freedom. I have long understood that I was never strong enough to take the knife out of my mother’s hand. What my dream awakened was the truth — I am powerful enough to take the metaphorical knife out of mine.
And that brings me to my “Awakening List.” Each morning, I expand my Gratitude List into five Awakenings. For example, this morning i wrote:
I awaken to the melody of songbirds. Life is sweet.
I awaken to seven hours of uninterrupted sleep. Life is full of lovely surprises.
I awaken to my breath filling my lungs. Each breath is a gift of Life and Love.
I awaken knowing my dreams have the power to unfold as I step into my own power. I am powerful beyond my wildest imaginings.
I awaken to this day with anticipation, excitement, and gratitude. My heart is a joyful place.
This practice opens my mind, heart, and body to the morning’s wonder and beauty, beginning my day with positivity. And, it reminds me of my capacity to be the Shero in my own life.
Do you have a special practice to open each day with wonder and beauty? Please share in the comments below. Let’s ripple out our inspiration to touch the lives of others!
This morning, as I sat down to write, my mind wandered through the things I’ve been doing to keep my commitment to finish the book I’m working on (or at least the first draft) by September 1.
I’ve kept my commitments to stay engaged with my process everyday.
That deserved a little “Atta Girl”ing. It also needed a bit of a ‘ole pep talk to ensure I didn’t listen to that hissing little whisper deep inside that likes to trip me up when I give myself positive re-enforcement (it’s the critter mind wanting to ‘keep me safe’ because the critter mind is programmed to listen to those childhood voices that tried to protect me in moments when I felt scared or uncertain or ‘less than’ or simply couldn’t make sense of the world around me.
Self-pep Talks are important. Not only do they help calm any doubts or re-direct the critter-voice that would have you believe keeping your commitments to yourself are not important, or that you may as well give up now because you’re going to quit pretty soon (i.e. You don’t finish anything), a self-pep talk is a powerful body/mind connection. It reminds us that our brain is not in control. We are.
As a child, I had many interests. One of them was staying in touch with my pen pals spread out all around the world. Even as a child I had a keen interest in how other people thought and lived that was different than me. So, I cultivated a cadre of penpals and stayed in touch with them regularly. This was long before the days of social media and cell phones so staying in touch meant exchanging hand written letters.
My brother, who was five years older than me and, as he liked to remind me, much wiser, often made fun of me and my penpals. I loved my brother but man, did he know how to bring me to earth with a resounding THUMP!
One of the oft repeated phrases was that I, “Grow Up!” According to my brother, penpals were for babies. Desprately wanting to get on with the business of growing up (not to mention stop his teasing), I let his words take root and quit writing my letters.
Which is why my self-pep talk today is so critical to my keeping my committment to keep working on this book as planned.
As a child, the message to “Grow Up” attached itself to the limiting belief, “You never finish anything, Louise.”
For many years, I made that lie my truth. Or at least, that’s what I constantly told myself, even in the face of ample evidence that I finished those things that were (are) important to me.
I wanted to become a ski instructor. I did.
I wanted to learn how to fly a plane. I did.
I wanted to be a published writer. I am.
I wanted to write a book. I did.
And the list goes on.
Yet, despite my lengthy list of things I’ve done and achieved, I still have this little voice inside that can see me as ‘a quitter’.
Which is why I use my self-peptalk as a reminder, “I got this! I’m worth keeping my commitments for.”
The voice is no longer strident and loud as it once was. I attribute its decline to making a commitment to pay attention to doing the things I know support and love me. The things that help me grow stronger in my commitment to choose always to live this one precious life in the power of Love.
And a self-pep talk is a beautiful way to say, I love me, just the way I am because Love is what I deserve. Forever and always.
What about you? Have you given yourself a pep talk lately? I hope so! They’re full of encouragement. Inspiration and Possibility! And why not? You deserve to live you best life free of doubt pulling you back from shining bright!
According to Thomas Moore, whose soul-centered philosophy speaks deeply to me, some of the more turbulent life passages we’ve experienced need to be healed, or we stay stuck. In our ‘stuckedness’ (my made-up word, not his). Unhealed passages leave us acting out in immature, unconscious ways that limit the grace with which we pass through each day and ultimately, prevent us from knowing grace in aging.
“Passages are not always easy. You may decide it is too much for you and settle for being stuck in a comfortable phase.” — Thomas Moore, Ageless Soul
Moore suggests we look back on our lives and see various passages as linked by plateaus which represent the stages of our lives. Not necessarily the ‘aged’ stages, but rather, the significant events which make up our growing ‘up’. School. Marriage. Travel. Jobs. Adventures…
Sometimes, we don’t navigate the passages between plateaus well. Sometimes, in our inability to let go of one plateau to pass through to another, we refuse to say yes to possibility and hold onto, or stay stuck in, what was and can never be again.
There are many ways to heal those broken passages.
One way is to draw a timeline of your life. (For me, doing this exercise, I like to tape pieces of 8 x 11″ paper end to end horizontally. I begin at the beginning – birth, and include photos, pictures cut out of magazines, drawings, etc. as I move along my timeline. I take my time – this is my lifeline, my life journey, I want to savour each moment, whether I judge it good or bad – it is my life.)
From birth to today, mark the significant events and a word or three to describe what you did when that significant event appeared in your life.
Look for patterns, for spaces where your reason for ‘living in the NO’ or stepping back from possibility carried over into other areas of your life, even when you wanted to say Yes.
Now, hold those moments lovingly in your mind, and let compassion, love, acceptance pour over them. Let your heart open wide to the realization that in those instances you chose No, not because you couldn’t do it, but rather, because doing it was too risky, scary, fear-inducing, or you just felt more comfortable staying stuck.
Let the grace of self-forgiveness envelop you. Imagine grace is a serene river flowing through every fibre of your being.
And then, say, “I see you. I forgive you. I let go. I am peaceful with my decision today.”
Last night, as my beloved and I lay in bed reading, he suddenly asked, “Do you know what day tomorrow is?”
“Monday?” I glibly replied.
“Our anniversary,” he clarified with a laugh.
Well my goodness! Seriously?
Neither of us had noted the date.
For C.C., it’s partially because of being immersed in pulling together financing on a business deal. He gets consumed.
For me… well recent events have taken up a great deal of my mindspace. I just hadn’t realized how much until C.C. reminded me of the significance of this date.
As many who read here regularly know, C.C. was in hospital with pneumonia for 10 days at the beginning of the year.
His recovery has been slowed by the presence of COPD in his lungs which makes his breathing laboured. My thoughts have been consumed with making sure COVID doesn’t impede his recovery.
And then, a month ago, while I was in Vancouver, he fell and fractured three ribs. “They’re only bruised,” he told me. “No need to come home. I’ll be fine.”
Sisters surrounded by sisters
Fortunately, my youngest daughter was able to care for Beaumont as he tried to heal and my sister Jackie kept him supplied with food while I was away! It wasn’t until two days before my return that he went for an X-ray and discovered his ribs weren’t bruised but fractured — no wonder moving was almost impossible. All of which has made his breathing even more laboured.
Colour me worried, ’cause I am.
Worried he’ll catch COVID. Worried his breathing will not improve. Worried…
Charlie’s Angels
Add the passing of my dear friend Andrew and I’m hoping you get the picture… my mind is not a calm and clear view of distant horizons and shimmering seas of peaceful waters capable of holding thoughts of health and well-being and death and living alongside dates of note.
The fact is… I have been feeling overwhelmed by it all. Not just these recent events but the whole landscape of this world where war and disease and climate events march in seemingly unending waves of turbulent thoughts engulfing my peace of mind.
It’s time to find my centre, my middle ground as Val Boyko calls it. It’s time to breathe into the chaos and worry to remind myself of that which is always present, always the answer… LOVE
Tolstoy wrote, “Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.”
On this, our 7th Wedding Anniversary, I choose to consciously release worry and fear, sadness and sorrow, to celebrate all that makes my life so rich and vibrant, all that creates such beautiful meaning and joy in everyday.
Nature’s song fills the rain-washed morning air
deer press velvety black noses against my window
pleading eyes urging me to awaken
and feed their rumbling bellies
Sleep slips effortlessly into dream-laden memory
as my heart skips joyfully in the morning glory of this day.
Dare Boldly 