Love yourself. Love your fear. Love your beauty. Love your courage..

Yesterday, at a media training workshop I was giving, I told the group that, though I’ve probably done 100s of TV interviews, particularly when I was working in the homeless-serving sector, I seldom looked at any of them.


What was I afraid of?

Well… first. I know the critter in my head. And, I know how self-judgemental he (me) can be. I didn’t want to subject myself to his tyranny of abuse and vitriol about how I move my facial muscles too much. I’m too animated. Too… this or that. Or… Not enough this or that… How I could have said this… better, more clearly, more emphatically. How I missed this opportunity, or that, to really get my point across… Yada. Yada. Yada.

What a missed opportunity!

Being able to learn from my own mistakes. Being able to watch myself in the environment where I was working to determine my strengths, areas needing improvement, and places I could strengthen my delivery, I simply refused to go. To accept the gift. I was too ‘vain’, self-conscious, and insecure to use those interviews to my advantage.

And here’s the thing. If I am to fall in love with myself, all of me, then I have to be willing to SEE all of me. To experience all of me. To know all of me. AND – To be KIND to all of me.

When I think about those missed opportunities to grow and learn from my own experience, the kindest thing I can do for myself today is, be kind in my reflections.

They are not about judging myself. My reflections are about seeing myself through the lens of ‘Oh my. How fascinating.’ and then, doing the thing I fear. Which in this case would be watching myself on camera — without the voice of judgment inspecting all I’m not doing right, or counting the wrinkles or booming out its condemnations and drowning out the voice of kindness that says, “You are brave Louise to do this. Let’s watch and see what you’ve done well here and see if there are places we can work together to improve your delivery.”

Which brings me back to these videos. I don’t like watching myself on camera — and here I am, every morning, putting myself in a position I fear.

Hmmmm…. Maybe, instead of looking for my perceived missteps, I need to celebrate the fact I’ve chosen to step into this arena and be present.

Maybe, I need to say to myself, “Louise, you’re doing okay. You are definitely learning as you grow into this process and you are giving your best. Your best is good enough.”

Because, a) I can’t do better than my best in this moment and b) I am doing this to learn — and part of that learning is to step into my fear and love myself in my fear and my courage.

Do you get what I’m saying?

Loving ourselves requires a willingness to embrace the light, darkness and shadows of ourselves.

It invites us to see more than our flaws. It invites us to witness and celebrate our successes, our courage, our willingness to unapologetically claim centre stage in our own lives.

If I am to age grace, if I am to claim all that I am as worthy, then I must choose to Love all of me for my courage to do just that.

Aging with grace isn’t about giving in. It’s about leaning deeply into the mystery, magic and wonder of this thing called life. This thing that changes us and all the world around us, every single moment we are alive.

I want to age with grace because for me, grace is a ‘criteria; word that extolls the beauty and majesty of being alive without fear pushing me into hiding or avoiding loving me, all of me, exactly as I am.


Born Too Soon To Live So Long

As I was meditating this morning a thought popped into my head. It didn’t disturb the serenity of the moment as much as awaken me to the possibility of the moment.

“You know Louise, one of the daunting aspects of aging into your 60s and beyond is that there is zero question about how much runway is in front of you. Less than there is behind.”


True. But does it matter? Is it the length of the runway in front or behind that’s important in this moment as much as how well I use the runway before me? Will my final approach to the inevitable end of this flight I call my life, land me safely with grace and ease in the forever after? Or, will it be a bumpy, bone-jolting setting down that unnerves me right to the last breath it takes away?

It is an undeniable fact. While scientists state the first person to live to one hundred and twenty is already walking this earth, I am probably not that person.

Which kind of means… I’m running out of runway.

‘Cause I’m born too soon to live so long.

It kind of sounds like the title of a C&W song. “Born too soon to live so long / I still got a long ways to go / I gotta make each moment count / ’cause living’ ain’t over until I play / the final note of my living ode…”

Ooops. Sorry. A momentary lapse in paying attention to this very serious conversation.

But seriously, none of us truly know when the end of that runway will come.

What I do know, is that no matter how long it has taken me to get to this moment, what I do in the next one counts. And how I make it count is up to me.

Yesterday, on my IG feed, the comments regarding me and my ego’s burst of self-pity and concern over ‘my aging look’ generated some powerful responses. One of those responses by my music-video daughter, @LauraHickle, was so full of undeniable truths that I think I might tattoo it on my forehead!

In her response, Laura wrote, “These insecurities would no doubt be intensified with age just due to the way society has erased aging from beauty standards and culture in general. What I like to find power in is just how incredibly punk rock it is to say NO. I am important. I am alive. I have something to say. I exist. Aging exists. Skin conditions exist. Fat exists. And none of this is wrong. None of this is wrong. It is capitalism that has convinced us we should be small and young. It is the misogyny that has led us to believe beauty is equal to our worth…. Photoshopped capitalistic beauty standards fall to the shadow when someone says ‘hello, I exist.’ 


You can read all of the amazing comments as well as the full text of Laura’s on my IG page here:

Which brings me back to ‘my runway’.

I don’t know how long it is before I get to the end. I do know there’s more behind me than in front of me.

So… the question becomes, How high do I dare to fly before touchdown?

How high do I dare to raise my voice and sing out loud, “Look at me! Here I am!”

To cry out, NO! To shout out YES. To claim without hesitation, I am alive!

How wide do I dare to stretch my arms? To embrace life in all its ups and downs and ins and outs?

How fast do I dare to run? Into the unknown? Into the mystery? Into the magic? Into LIFE!

How fast and far do I dare to go to release myself from the tyranny of believing I am becoming invisible? I am losing the light? I am getting too old to live out loud?

What wonderful questions to live into on this beautiful last day of August.