I had a heart wrenching talk with my daughter, she was afraid to go back to school because she didn't think she had any friends there (insert that horrible feeling of not being able to save your kids from heart ache). She gathered this because the year books had a place to write down the names of your friends and no one wrote her name (not everyone filled it out). I'm also fuzzy on how she saw everyone's year books, but I digress. She was in tears and ashamed. She has been excluded by a bullying girl, there's no denying that. However, she can also be terribly shy.
I acknowledged that feeling of being left out is awful, and that it's hard to make new friends when everyone else already knows each other. I told her about my experience moving schools.
I'm a stop worrying about it and start fixing it kind of person, so together we went over the names of the girls she has talked about doing stuff with at school.
"What about so and so? Don't you draw pictures together?"
"Yes."
"She's not your friend?" I asked.
My daughter shrugged. "She likes my art, she showed me how to draw a fox."
"That's her way of trying to find things in common to share with you, that's how friendships start."
"Oh." Honestly sounding surprised.
"That's how my friendship with Kyle, Kelden, and Beth started, but we weren't close right away. We shared music together and then found out we had other things in common and it built from there. It took just over a year and we all put in effort. So enjoy art with her, ask her about other things she likes. Some friendships take awhile to build, but that's okay because they usually end up being good ones."
She nodded and snuggled more into me, I could tell more reassurance was needed:
"What about that other girl, the one you email?"
"Oh, we lost touch this Summer."
"So why don't you email her tomorrow and ask how her Summer was?"
"Yeah, I guess I could do that." Her voice sounding a bit lighter.
"Do you have guys you hang out with at school?"
"Yeah, ______ and _______." She laughed. "They are trouble makers."
"Are they mean?"
"No, they just sometimes cause trouble for the teachers."
"Well as long as you don't join in, in the classroom, you could make friends with them. Sounds to me like there are people who want to be your friends, but maybe you aren't letting them in because you
are shy."
"Yeah, maybe."
(I have seen several kids approach my daughter on the street and say "Hi." My daughter quietly says it back then steps away.) I could tell that it wasn't from a lack of interest that she wasn't making close connections. She has a hard time interacting at first, she needs to ease into it.
"Truth be told," I started. "I've been the popular girl in a big group of friends, but many of us weren't really friends, we weren't always nice to one another and I kinda wished that I was in that smaller group of friends, because they seemed to care about and support one another. Find people or who want to put time and energy into you, the ones who care about your feelings, and do the same for them. Those are the good friendships."
"Okay." She smiled.
"You think you can sleep now?"
"Yep."
"Good night, sweetie."
The kids in the homeschool community were always so inclusive. They were taught to be by their parents. My daughter could be her shy self at first and still be invited to play in a game, sit in a group etc. Public school is such a culture shock, where many of the kids are guarded and clique. However, this will teach her how to make friends in new cities and workplaces. I hope she will come talk to me some more about it, friendship is so important. Luckily, she still has a really good friend from the homeschooling community that lives up the street. So she won't miss out on having girl talk.
Now, I've written that. I need to compartmentalize and not take my daughter's feelings to bed with me. Which is hard. However, if I take on her feelings, she won't come to me anymore because she doesn't want to make me feel bad. She is a very compassionate little girl, perhaps even empathetic to a fault. She has such a kind, sensitive, heart, I'd like her to be able to keep it that way.
Tuesday, August 29, 2017
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
Wonder Woman
I watched Wonder Woman and something crumbled in me. I realized that I couldn't love the people closest to me. My children the exception. However, to people who are physically close and people who are blood related, anyone I feel there is any obligation to love them, I have become so cold, so hard. I only saw them for the emotional energy they would need, I saw them as points for potential conflict and heartache.
See, I wasn't broken by my last love, I was built. I am so built, that the more scared I am, the calmer I look on the outside. I can look a friend in the eye and say to him calmly:
I'm totally triggered right now, I need to know that we are cool.
Then as my chest feels like it is imploding, I can stride to the washroom, take 3 deep breaths, tell myself I'm safe and carry on.
I literally lose the use of my legs and the ability to speak while out at a pub and I smile, and write notes about it with emoji faces.
It's so easy to hold it together, when you are too scared to fall apart.
Show no negative emotion.
You are safer when you look calm.
Don't relax and don't feel loved.
Love is the illusion that keeps you where you get hurt
Don't let your guard down.
Love the people who are too far away to hurt you.
Love the people you owe nothing to.
I can very calmly describe horrific things that have happened to me. My vocabulary increases exponentially, my posture pristine. I cross my legs, fold my hands in my lap and use proper terminology:
trauma, triggers, adrenalin, fight or flight,
disassociation.
My body tells one story while my insides scream another.
I desperately need to break down in front of someone who loves me.
I need to crumble into their arms and
I need for them to not get angry at me for it.
I know some people who think that I am invincible,
I used to want to be invincible,
Now I want to be strong instead.
See, I wasn't broken by my last love, I was built. I am so built, that the more scared I am, the calmer I look on the outside. I can look a friend in the eye and say to him calmly:
I'm totally triggered right now, I need to know that we are cool.
Then as my chest feels like it is imploding, I can stride to the washroom, take 3 deep breaths, tell myself I'm safe and carry on.
I literally lose the use of my legs and the ability to speak while out at a pub and I smile, and write notes about it with emoji faces.
It's so easy to hold it together, when you are too scared to fall apart.
Show no negative emotion.
You are safer when you look calm.
Don't relax and don't feel loved.
Love is the illusion that keeps you where you get hurt
Don't let your guard down.
Love the people who are too far away to hurt you.
Love the people you owe nothing to.
I can very calmly describe horrific things that have happened to me. My vocabulary increases exponentially, my posture pristine. I cross my legs, fold my hands in my lap and use proper terminology:
trauma, triggers, adrenalin, fight or flight,
disassociation.
My body tells one story while my insides scream another.
I desperately need to break down in front of someone who loves me.
I need to crumble into their arms and
I need for them to not get angry at me for it.
I know some people who think that I am invincible,
I used to want to be invincible,
Now I want to be strong instead.
Wednesday, April 12, 2017
Dear daughter,
I always want you to feel like, in general, the human race is good and our drive is to become better. However, I would be doing you a great disservice if I did not point out where we need improvement. At this time in your life, when your body is in metamorphosis you are vulnerable to the persuasion of companies who profit off your insecurities about your body. They do it by creating a feeling that you are not good enough and more recently, by using advertising campaigns whose purpose is to give some of the empowerment you will crave after believing you are not good enough.
You are my beautiful, smart, joyful girl, who is capable of amazing things, but unfortunately,
to corporations you are not a multidimensional human being with feelings, you are a consumer. Essentially, you are someone they can target and make money from. I give to you the commercial that had a very young me pinching my sides and being dissatisfied with my appearance, wishing I could just cut into my hips take out inches of skin and sew the sides back together. This is Kellogg's "Can't pinch an inch" marketing scheme:
Now 30 years later, after profiting off of the idea that women should be slim, effectively teaching young women that their "inches" were undesirable, Kellogg's has decided to jump on the positive body image band wagon.
Kellogg's literally contributed to the very body issues that they are describing in this video. They made money putting women down, now they are making money building us back up. At least they are bringing us back up right? This is where social responsibility comes in. Has Kellogg's formally taken responsibility for it's contribution to body image issues? I went to investigate their website myself. Though they discussed accountability and integrity under the heading of "Our Values", I searched the website and did not see an official statement, apologetic or otherwise about their "Can't Pinch an Inch" campaign. If the company can't admit to their responsibility for harm done, they lack both integrity and accountability and really are just in it for your money.
Dove's Real Beauty campaign:
Did you notice the women burning their bras? This was a demonstration done by feminists, is has actually become iconic of feminism. In fact a slang term for the word feminist is "bra burner."Dove literally used feminism to sell their product and market themselves to feminists. However, the advertisement calling for models for this campaign had unrealistic expectations for women in their
commercials and photo shoots. Flawless skin was just one of the perfections the models were
expected to have, nymag.com reported during the peak of the campaign in 2010. http://nymag.com/thecut/2010/06/dove_seeks_women_with_flawless.html
So how can you be sure that you are purchasing from companies who aren't trying to profit from your insecurities? You could buy as local as possible from small companies who don't run large advertising campaigns... But more importantly, before you buy these products you could ask yourself: Am I buying this because I feel like I am not good enough with out it? Or am I buying it because it helps me celebrate the things I love about myself? If your answer is the first one, you don't need it, take time before buying it to realize that you are whole and beautiful without it. If it's the second answer, then go ahead, but ask yourself first: is there an amazing experience I'd rather be spending this money on?
If you ever do find yourself in front of a mirror critiquing your body, please remember, that these negative voices in your head telling you that you are not good enough, were put there by thousands of images made by companies that need you to buy your beauty. I give you full permission to tell those voices and the companies responsible for them to go f$ck themselves.
Love,
Mom
I always want you to feel like, in general, the human race is good and our drive is to become better. However, I would be doing you a great disservice if I did not point out where we need improvement. At this time in your life, when your body is in metamorphosis you are vulnerable to the persuasion of companies who profit off your insecurities about your body. They do it by creating a feeling that you are not good enough and more recently, by using advertising campaigns whose purpose is to give some of the empowerment you will crave after believing you are not good enough.
You are my beautiful, smart, joyful girl, who is capable of amazing things, but unfortunately,
to corporations you are not a multidimensional human being with feelings, you are a consumer. Essentially, you are someone they can target and make money from. I give to you the commercial that had a very young me pinching my sides and being dissatisfied with my appearance, wishing I could just cut into my hips take out inches of skin and sew the sides back together. This is Kellogg's "Can't pinch an inch" marketing scheme:
Now 30 years later, after profiting off of the idea that women should be slim, effectively teaching young women that their "inches" were undesirable, Kellogg's has decided to jump on the positive body image band wagon.
Dove's Real Beauty campaign:
Did you notice the women burning their bras? This was a demonstration done by feminists, is has actually become iconic of feminism. In fact a slang term for the word feminist is "bra burner."Dove literally used feminism to sell their product and market themselves to feminists. However, the advertisement calling for models for this campaign had unrealistic expectations for women in their
commercials and photo shoots. Flawless skin was just one of the perfections the models were
expected to have, nymag.com reported during the peak of the campaign in 2010. http://nymag.com/thecut/2010/06/dove_seeks_women_with_flawless.html
So how can you be sure that you are purchasing from companies who aren't trying to profit from your insecurities? You could buy as local as possible from small companies who don't run large advertising campaigns... But more importantly, before you buy these products you could ask yourself: Am I buying this because I feel like I am not good enough with out it? Or am I buying it because it helps me celebrate the things I love about myself? If your answer is the first one, you don't need it, take time before buying it to realize that you are whole and beautiful without it. If it's the second answer, then go ahead, but ask yourself first: is there an amazing experience I'd rather be spending this money on?
If you ever do find yourself in front of a mirror critiquing your body, please remember, that these negative voices in your head telling you that you are not good enough, were put there by thousands of images made by companies that need you to buy your beauty. I give you full permission to tell those voices and the companies responsible for them to go f$ck themselves.
Love,
Mom
Monday, March 20, 2017
Porcelain
It's 4:30 am. I have awoken from a dream. My eyes opened with a sinking sadness. A feeling of deep loss. In my dream, I was packing my little girl's dolls into a bin and thinking about which one's she would like to keep to rediscover when she was an adult. Would it be the flashy porcelain ones, or the ones she played with til they were worn? All the while, the room around me morphed into my childhood bedroom.
This day of packing away dolls is not so far away. The knowledge that I have been taking our time together for granted is sharp in the pre-dawn darkness. I have a little girl who writes me emails telling me that she misses me, thanking me for hanging out with her and trying to make plans. Here I am spending hours talking online with people, who I don't doubt love me, but will never love me like she does. They don't need me like she does.
I'm not one to sit in these discoveries of sadness and guilt. I am not one who believes that feeling bad about something is a good for motivation. I used to, but then I spent too much time feeling guilty and not enough time fixing things to move on.
As mentioned, we email eachother, I will set aside time to do that more often. The warm weather is coming and I'd like to go hiking with her again. I used to read to them... But now I wonder is she too old for this? Has something else slipped through my fingers without me noticing?
Perhaps I should just ask her what she would like to do (what a novel idea).
The 4am wake up call of despair, ugh. It happens to the most resilient of us.
It's times like this that I am tempted to take her from her bed and lie her down next to me and hold her little hand (now almost the same size as mine) as she dozes off. Perhaps I will.
Every step begins with now.
This day of packing away dolls is not so far away. The knowledge that I have been taking our time together for granted is sharp in the pre-dawn darkness. I have a little girl who writes me emails telling me that she misses me, thanking me for hanging out with her and trying to make plans. Here I am spending hours talking online with people, who I don't doubt love me, but will never love me like she does. They don't need me like she does.
I'm not one to sit in these discoveries of sadness and guilt. I am not one who believes that feeling bad about something is a good for motivation. I used to, but then I spent too much time feeling guilty and not enough time fixing things to move on.
As mentioned, we email eachother, I will set aside time to do that more often. The warm weather is coming and I'd like to go hiking with her again. I used to read to them... But now I wonder is she too old for this? Has something else slipped through my fingers without me noticing?
Perhaps I should just ask her what she would like to do (what a novel idea).
The 4am wake up call of despair, ugh. It happens to the most resilient of us.
It's times like this that I am tempted to take her from her bed and lie her down next to me and hold her little hand (now almost the same size as mine) as she dozes off. Perhaps I will.
Every step begins with now.
Monday, February 27, 2017
Single or Satisfied?
I like being single. I don't even really think about the fact I'm single anymore, despite what my Facebook #reasonsImsingle diatribe may have given the impression of. Though it was really just a celebration of my oddness, but I digress.
Here are the things that I am thinking about instead: What do I want to do in life and how am I going to get there? I'm taking online courses, going back to school and planning for full-time college in the Fall. My health has become a priority as well so daily exercise is taking up at least 30 minutes a day. Creating healthy meals also fills my mind, so I'm focussing on the nutritional value of foods. I want to be able to handle the stress of school, so I'm meditating every night.
My kids are getting older, taking time to play cards games and go on walks with them is a priority. I enjoy creating, so I purchased a ukulele and I "jam" along to my tunes with it. I jump on my son's mini drum set and practise basic rock beats to rebuild my motor skills after years of poor neuro function. I get together with good friends; we talk, we joke, we have deep philosophical discussions, we listen, we support, sometimes we play music. I believe in every voice counting, on social media and otherwise, so I read, post and comment on social justice issues.
Every two weeks or so, I go out and do something fun with someone I find attractive that I don't know very well. Not dates per se, just enjoying their presence, getting to know them. These are potentially good friends and I don't mind riding that line until they (or I) decide otherwise.
I'm not really looking for a relationship.
I know, pretty cliche. I'm sure some singles are sick of hearing it. However, in order for me to be willing to commit a specific amount of time and emotional energy, it has to feel GOOD.
I think it can be described in this way:
When I see them I genuinely feel a rush of happiness and warmth. Then as we are hanging out I feel a level of comfort comparable to when I take my bra off at the end of the day. When they touch me... Well this isn't my sex blog so I'll leave that part out.
This GOOD feeling doesn't happen overnight and I don't have large amounts of time/energy to build that with someone at the moment. I do, however, enjoy a different types of relationships (when I say relationships, I'm referring to the way two people relate to one another, not the traditional romantic perspective). The ones from afar, where the person is just as unable to commit as you are. There's getting to know them, no pressure, no expectations, no intentions other than communicating to share because you both honestly enjoy it. These are becoming my favourite. When your visions of the future don't currently include a serious romantic partnership, it's nice to have others around you who are on the same wavelength.
When I was 13, someone asked me how I saw my future. I told them I would be living in a small cabin on a lake, writing everyday. There was no husband or wife in that vision. I see now that this was a unique mindset for an adolescent girl and I am happy for it, it means that I saw myself as completely content as a single adult. Here I am, just that.
Here are the things that I am thinking about instead: What do I want to do in life and how am I going to get there? I'm taking online courses, going back to school and planning for full-time college in the Fall. My health has become a priority as well so daily exercise is taking up at least 30 minutes a day. Creating healthy meals also fills my mind, so I'm focussing on the nutritional value of foods. I want to be able to handle the stress of school, so I'm meditating every night.
My kids are getting older, taking time to play cards games and go on walks with them is a priority. I enjoy creating, so I purchased a ukulele and I "jam" along to my tunes with it. I jump on my son's mini drum set and practise basic rock beats to rebuild my motor skills after years of poor neuro function. I get together with good friends; we talk, we joke, we have deep philosophical discussions, we listen, we support, sometimes we play music. I believe in every voice counting, on social media and otherwise, so I read, post and comment on social justice issues.
Every two weeks or so, I go out and do something fun with someone I find attractive that I don't know very well. Not dates per se, just enjoying their presence, getting to know them. These are potentially good friends and I don't mind riding that line until they (or I) decide otherwise.
I'm not really looking for a relationship.
I know, pretty cliche. I'm sure some singles are sick of hearing it. However, in order for me to be willing to commit a specific amount of time and emotional energy, it has to feel GOOD.
I think it can be described in this way:
When I see them I genuinely feel a rush of happiness and warmth. Then as we are hanging out I feel a level of comfort comparable to when I take my bra off at the end of the day. When they touch me... Well this isn't my sex blog so I'll leave that part out.
This GOOD feeling doesn't happen overnight and I don't have large amounts of time/energy to build that with someone at the moment. I do, however, enjoy a different types of relationships (when I say relationships, I'm referring to the way two people relate to one another, not the traditional romantic perspective). The ones from afar, where the person is just as unable to commit as you are. There's getting to know them, no pressure, no expectations, no intentions other than communicating to share because you both honestly enjoy it. These are becoming my favourite. When your visions of the future don't currently include a serious romantic partnership, it's nice to have others around you who are on the same wavelength.
When I was 13, someone asked me how I saw my future. I told them I would be living in a small cabin on a lake, writing everyday. There was no husband or wife in that vision. I see now that this was a unique mindset for an adolescent girl and I am happy for it, it means that I saw myself as completely content as a single adult. Here I am, just that.
Monday, February 13, 2017
It's Just a Dance
My daughter came to me the other day and told me she was excited because she asked one of her crushes (that's right, she's keeping her options open) to the Valentine's dance and he said "Sure, why not."
Granted the acceptance was a little lacklustre for my taste, but here's the thing: she approached him. My 11 year old, usually very shy, daughter mustered up the confidence to ask out a boy she liked.
Today, after discussing her outfit options for the dance, she mentioned she was going with her friend, not her crush. "Oh, why aren't you going with him anymore." I enquired.
"He told me he wanted to go with someone he had a crush on." She said with a non chalant shrug. I was like, "Oh, honey, I'm sorry." And I felt that familiar adolescent heart ache of the unrequited (not that that feeling is reserved for adolescents, but I digress). Though watching her body language I could tell this was not a big deal to her. She was perfectly fine and didn't seem to take it personally at all.
"It's okay, I'm going with so and so, she's my friend and she was going to be the third wheel, and now she's not."
I have succeeded in raising an adolescent girl who doesn't place her self-worth on wether or not a boy likes her back. Holy shit. That's the parenting mother-load right fucking there.
Sometimes it's important to pat yourself on the back.
Now, to help her maintain that self confidence and independence over the next 7 years. I got this.
Granted the acceptance was a little lacklustre for my taste, but here's the thing: she approached him. My 11 year old, usually very shy, daughter mustered up the confidence to ask out a boy she liked.
Today, after discussing her outfit options for the dance, she mentioned she was going with her friend, not her crush. "Oh, why aren't you going with him anymore." I enquired.
"He told me he wanted to go with someone he had a crush on." She said with a non chalant shrug. I was like, "Oh, honey, I'm sorry." And I felt that familiar adolescent heart ache of the unrequited (not that that feeling is reserved for adolescents, but I digress). Though watching her body language I could tell this was not a big deal to her. She was perfectly fine and didn't seem to take it personally at all.
"It's okay, I'm going with so and so, she's my friend and she was going to be the third wheel, and now she's not."
I have succeeded in raising an adolescent girl who doesn't place her self-worth on wether or not a boy likes her back. Holy shit. That's the parenting mother-load right fucking there.
Sometimes it's important to pat yourself on the back.
Now, to help her maintain that self confidence and independence over the next 7 years. I got this.
Saturday, January 21, 2017
So Good
I want to write about the marches, but everything has been said in the best possible way they could be by the many speakers and posters at the rallies. I'll share with you that I broke into tears several times looking at overhead shots of the crowds. I shared these images with my children and explained as best I could, why the marches took place and why I too, participated in our small town's sister march. We happened to be watching Bed Knobs and Broomsticks which took place during WW2 and so a timely discussion evolved. We reviewed Hitler's political tactics and how Trump's tactics are very similar. I told them these marches gave me hope. Later tonight as we spent the last half hour before bed together, I wanted them to sleep easy, to not carry the weight of world issues on their shoulders. I pulled them close.
"Last time there was a world leader like this, their wasn't much of an uprising until it was too late. This time, look at all the people standing up, saying "this isn't right". We are learning from our past, we're going to be okay."
We are going to be okay.
Monday, December 19, 2016
Joybreak
This season I have felt completely overwhelmed. I'm exhausted, emotional and negative. I've been generally feeling like I should know better, I can be happier than this, why does it seem so hard?
After reading a blog post I wrote after being in St.John's (one of the most joyous times of my life) I realized that I wasn't tending to my own joy anymore. I have this preconceived notion that when my schedule gets busy, I simply do not have the time to spend on my joy and instead it becomes damage control. It's a matter of priorities, messed up, hand built by robots, priorities.
So I decided to take a Joybreak. A week where I focus on doing things that bring me joy. Here's what a typical Joybreak looks like:
Wake up, tell my kids I love them, send them off to school, have a mind blowing orgasm, choose my favourite colours to wear, put on make-up, choose a great music playlist, put on my headphones, dance in my room, go out still listening to music, walk to my favourite coffee shop, make my coffee with lots of honey, eat my favourite oatmeal, check Facebook, chat with acquaintances, make a list of yummy food to buy, write, write,write, head on out to do my shopping still with music playing, shop, sing along and dance while shopping, get home put stuff away, take a hot bath, nap before kids get home from school, cuddle them, make dinner with them and plan our movie for that night. After the movie send them to bed with kisses, Check Facebook, climb into my super soft covers, read a book, meditate, sleep.
I'm only part way through my day and already I feel more energetic. I had forgotten that doing things that bring me joy, does not detract from other responsibilities, it makes them more than merely tolerable, as joy tends to overflow into all aspects of my life.
Update: when you search for joy you find it.
Today, while at the coffee shop, I talked to two great women, who always give off such warmth. I got to stop by my friend's work and say "Hi.". There was the amazing chocolate lab who was so happy to see me and let me pet him. Leaving the supermarket, I saw a friend, who gave me a genuine hug and made my chest fill with warmth. My housemate made dinner, my kids loved their new light up toothbrushes, we listened to Stuart McLean and I swear I heard a story that I had missed the last two years we were listening. The Christmas puzzle was well received and finished. Day one of my Joybreak was a success, with only one hitch, when I waited too long to eat and got a bit grumpy with my kids.
After reading a blog post I wrote after being in St.John's (one of the most joyous times of my life) I realized that I wasn't tending to my own joy anymore. I have this preconceived notion that when my schedule gets busy, I simply do not have the time to spend on my joy and instead it becomes damage control. It's a matter of priorities, messed up, hand built by robots, priorities.
So I decided to take a Joybreak. A week where I focus on doing things that bring me joy. Here's what a typical Joybreak looks like:
Wake up, tell my kids I love them, send them off to school, have a mind blowing orgasm, choose my favourite colours to wear, put on make-up, choose a great music playlist, put on my headphones, dance in my room, go out still listening to music, walk to my favourite coffee shop, make my coffee with lots of honey, eat my favourite oatmeal, check Facebook, chat with acquaintances, make a list of yummy food to buy, write, write,write, head on out to do my shopping still with music playing, shop, sing along and dance while shopping, get home put stuff away, take a hot bath, nap before kids get home from school, cuddle them, make dinner with them and plan our movie for that night. After the movie send them to bed with kisses, Check Facebook, climb into my super soft covers, read a book, meditate, sleep.
I'm only part way through my day and already I feel more energetic. I had forgotten that doing things that bring me joy, does not detract from other responsibilities, it makes them more than merely tolerable, as joy tends to overflow into all aspects of my life.
Update: when you search for joy you find it.
Today, while at the coffee shop, I talked to two great women, who always give off such warmth. I got to stop by my friend's work and say "Hi.". There was the amazing chocolate lab who was so happy to see me and let me pet him. Leaving the supermarket, I saw a friend, who gave me a genuine hug and made my chest fill with warmth. My housemate made dinner, my kids loved their new light up toothbrushes, we listened to Stuart McLean and I swear I heard a story that I had missed the last two years we were listening. The Christmas puzzle was well received and finished. Day one of my Joybreak was a success, with only one hitch, when I waited too long to eat and got a bit grumpy with my kids.
Sunday, December 11, 2016
Blessings In this House
As we near the holidays, I find myself thinking about gifts, about blessings. The things in life that turn out amazingly, like someone was listening to my inner most desires and delivering them right to me. I desperately wanted a home for myself and my children, a real home, with safety and love... A feel of family. A near magical house appeared, but what made it a home was my housemate. She arrived with a flurry of friends, cleaning, organizing and decorating. I mostly hid during this time as I was triggered by people cleaning around me (something I have since healed from). I emerged a week later, to a home that looked like something out of a decorating magazine. I didn't realize how empty our home was until she filled it with paintings, vases and wall hangings. Mostly though, she filled it with laughter and song. She filled it with the plunking of keys from an old piano, that is all the better for it's tin-like reverberation. She filled our hearts with her empathy for her friends and family. Some gifts are people and she is one of the best gifts our family has ever received. She was the gift we didn't even know we needed. We are very thankful for her. We love her very much.
Friday, October 28, 2016
Warmth
Snow has blanketed everything. There's an excitement in my chest, there's an anxiety as well. I feel like I have so much to make up for. Last year our Solstice was a success, we were sponsored by another family through the food bank and under the tree looked as full as it did before I was a lone parent. Our house was bustling with family and friends coming in and out. However there was a bumpy few weeks ahead of time where some serious healing needed to be done around past holidays. Jack shared with me his heartbreaking experience of how his father told him there was no Santa.
I know that taking on the responsibility of another's feelings is not only damaging, it's futile. It makes it hard for them to express their feelings around you. So I'm not going to go out of my way to make this the best Solstice ever. I'm simply going to love them. I'm going to love my friends, my family. I'm not giving a lot of gifts, but I will give them the gift of peace and safety. I'm going to prepare an environment of warmth and comfort by emanating those things from myself. I will love them by loving myself. I will let them see what a gift a loving community is. Also there will be food because food=love and I love food.
Over the last year the most beautiful group of people have come into our lives. My friendships have deepened and family reunited. I finally feel worthy of the amazing people in my life. Bless you all and see you at Solstice!
I know that taking on the responsibility of another's feelings is not only damaging, it's futile. It makes it hard for them to express their feelings around you. So I'm not going to go out of my way to make this the best Solstice ever. I'm simply going to love them. I'm going to love my friends, my family. I'm not giving a lot of gifts, but I will give them the gift of peace and safety. I'm going to prepare an environment of warmth and comfort by emanating those things from myself. I will love them by loving myself. I will let them see what a gift a loving community is. Also there will be food because food=love and I love food.
Over the last year the most beautiful group of people have come into our lives. My friendships have deepened and family reunited. I finally feel worthy of the amazing people in my life. Bless you all and see you at Solstice!
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Fear Dressed In Wisdom's Clothing
I have this friend, we meet for coffee and talk for hours. I always always leave those conversations with massive lessons. This one was huge. I wrote a blog post months ago about being a lone parent. I was very much in the mindframe of never wanting a romantic partner involved with my children. I thought this stance was practical and pragmatic....Funny, how we can dress fear in a costume we call wisdom.
I was scared, angry and devoid of hope. I'd rather go without the warm feelings of sharing my family with someone I care about romantically then risk letting someone in who could hurt them. I never thought of how fucking selfish it would be to not let this person be involved in such a huge part of my life. To expect them to forgo the hope of feeling like a family with me, to keep them at a distance and to only share the small part of me that exists between bedtimes, wake times and mommy days. I didn't realize that this is only a partial relationship, a stepping stone with nowhere further for my partner to step. Even the word "partner" can't apply. I couldn't see that. I couldn't see a future with anything beyond a boyfriend/girlfriend in it and with that, I couldn't see the true validity of their concerns for the future. I simply didn't see my children as a factor in my relationships, because I didn't want the worlds to mix. Yeah, they may run into each other occasionally, but no plans together, no dinners or outings. My children were MINE and my ex's, no one else need be involved.
I'm still not looking for a co-parent, but I'm no longer closed to the idea of someone I care about becoming involved with my children (slowly) after a substantial amount of time seeing each other. I can see now how this mindframe held me back in many ways. Here I am, nearly six months from a point at which I thought I was ready for a relationship, realizing how much I wasn't. I feel like I'm ready for one now... We'll see if the woman I am in 6 months agrees.
I was scared, angry and devoid of hope. I'd rather go without the warm feelings of sharing my family with someone I care about romantically then risk letting someone in who could hurt them. I never thought of how fucking selfish it would be to not let this person be involved in such a huge part of my life. To expect them to forgo the hope of feeling like a family with me, to keep them at a distance and to only share the small part of me that exists between bedtimes, wake times and mommy days. I didn't realize that this is only a partial relationship, a stepping stone with nowhere further for my partner to step. Even the word "partner" can't apply. I couldn't see that. I couldn't see a future with anything beyond a boyfriend/girlfriend in it and with that, I couldn't see the true validity of their concerns for the future. I simply didn't see my children as a factor in my relationships, because I didn't want the worlds to mix. Yeah, they may run into each other occasionally, but no plans together, no dinners or outings. My children were MINE and my ex's, no one else need be involved.
I'm still not looking for a co-parent, but I'm no longer closed to the idea of someone I care about becoming involved with my children (slowly) after a substantial amount of time seeing each other. I can see now how this mindframe held me back in many ways. Here I am, nearly six months from a point at which I thought I was ready for a relationship, realizing how much I wasn't. I feel like I'm ready for one now... We'll see if the woman I am in 6 months agrees.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Love: It's Not About You
Pain and discomfort after a break-up is usually due to the feeling that you can't have what you want. It's selfish and all encompassing, but with time and space it wanes. Soon you are less melodramatic and your friends aren't rolling their eyes at your Facebook posts anymore. Then you run into the ex and that little bit of sadness creeps back in. Perhaps you spend the afternoon imagining that s/he pulls you off to the side, pins you against the wall with their body and explains between passionate kisses how they've realized how perfect you are together... Ahem... or something like that.
You know you are torturing yourself. You wish you could just get over it. You wish you didn't still want them.
Here's the deal though, if you truly love someone, it shouldn't be about what you want from them. Wanting them to love you/want to be with you, is essentially asking for them not to feel the way they feel, so that you can feel good. That's not love. If you truly want them to follow their heart, do what they think is best for themselves, then it is impossible to want them to be with you at the same time.
Want to know the best way to get over someone? Love them. Fully, unconditionally, love them. Wish the best for them and the rest of their journey wether or not you will be a part of it.
Love isn't about you, it's about the other person.
You know you are torturing yourself. You wish you could just get over it. You wish you didn't still want them.
Here's the deal though, if you truly love someone, it shouldn't be about what you want from them. Wanting them to love you/want to be with you, is essentially asking for them not to feel the way they feel, so that you can feel good. That's not love. If you truly want them to follow their heart, do what they think is best for themselves, then it is impossible to want them to be with you at the same time.
Want to know the best way to get over someone? Love them. Fully, unconditionally, love them. Wish the best for them and the rest of their journey wether or not you will be a part of it.
Love isn't about you, it's about the other person.
Monday, August 29, 2016
What Happens in the TARDIS Stays in the TARDIS
So I met my email friend for coffee. Well it was suppose to be for coffee, then it was pouring rain so we had to switch to a closer coffee shop, then that coffee shop was closing, so we ducked into the nearest restaurant where I promptly broke a plate. Seriously, I ate before I left so that I wouldn't slop food on myself or break anything while I was out with this guy. This is the kind of restaurant where the tables are already set. If I had any sense I would have turned around and walked out the second I saw that. Then I ordered a coffee that they didn't have the ingredients for, so the barista (gorgeous young man) came over with caramel he made ON THE SPOT and asked me taste it so they could add it to my cappuccino, except it was on a stick and I didn't want them staring at me while I tested it... So it was kind of awkward. Did I mention it was the opening night? No? Well it was. Also, I'm pretty sure it is a TARDIS. It was way bigger on the inside and well look at the picture. I just realized though, that if I had smashed the plate in a restaurant outside of the TARDIS we (the doctor and I, of course) could go back in time and he could catch the plate, and order a normal cappuccino for me. However a TARDIS cannot travel through time within itself. So what happens in a TARDIS stays in the TARDIS.
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
By Comparison
St. John's both exhilarated and exhausted me. I really did fit in what would normally be a month's worth of activity into 1 week. I got home tired and began my increased work hours. I broke up with my boyfriend and that is draining in and of itself, as was the roller coaster of trying to maintain a friendship afterwards. I was napping any afternoon I could. I was looking for ways to make nutritiously balanced meals as easily as possible. I stopped allowing the kids to help me make dinner simply because it was faster to do it myself. I became increasingly angry with them for not picking up after themselves because I simply did not have the energy to do it for them. I was starting to yell again. I felt horrible. Worst of all, I felt them being "clingy" and that irritated me, a lot. Instead of doing what needed to be done to make them feel loved and secure I sent them off to leave me alone. Then the guilt set in. Guilt leads to a worse mood and so the cycle begins.
I have this email friend (he lives in Toronto and we only communicate via email) and he was telling me about all the things he does with his daughter during the Summer. I fell into the comparison trap. Man, I was sucking at parenting. He's a single parent too, so I couldn't claim that as my excuse. I called my good friend Kyle who pep talked me. He reminded me that it wasn't about grandiose gestures, it was about me spending quality time with my kids. It didn't have to be a lot, it didn't have to be perfect, it just had to be loving. I'm paraphrasing but I'm pretty sure that's what he was trying to get across.
So this afternoon I decided to start with a clean slate. I would pretend I wasn't a bitchy mommy for the last few weeks and just do something small and not too tiring with them tonight.
So I picked them up after work, brought them home, then took them out for ice cream, a walk on the docks and a peek at the fish in the lake using a flashlight. We walked home holding hands and I savoured it.
Sometimes we set our expectations too high and we get tired of always being let down or letting down others. So we give up. I'd like to call it taking a break to re-evaluate. Either way, I've got it now. I don't have to be an awesome mom/woman/writer/friend/daughter all the time. It's okay just to be good and sometimes not even reaching that standard is alright. My children will learn that they don't have to be awesome all the time either and that's a good thing. I think some mornings when I am grumpy and they are not doing as they are told I might just announce in a loud silly voice:
"Today we are not awesome and that's okay! Say it with me folks!"
And have them repeat after me in their own silly voices. Heck you can say it with me too:
Today I am not awesome and that's okay.
Doesn't that feel better already?
I have this email friend (he lives in Toronto and we only communicate via email) and he was telling me about all the things he does with his daughter during the Summer. I fell into the comparison trap. Man, I was sucking at parenting. He's a single parent too, so I couldn't claim that as my excuse. I called my good friend Kyle who pep talked me. He reminded me that it wasn't about grandiose gestures, it was about me spending quality time with my kids. It didn't have to be a lot, it didn't have to be perfect, it just had to be loving. I'm paraphrasing but I'm pretty sure that's what he was trying to get across.
So this afternoon I decided to start with a clean slate. I would pretend I wasn't a bitchy mommy for the last few weeks and just do something small and not too tiring with them tonight.
So I picked them up after work, brought them home, then took them out for ice cream, a walk on the docks and a peek at the fish in the lake using a flashlight. We walked home holding hands and I savoured it.
Sometimes we set our expectations too high and we get tired of always being let down or letting down others. So we give up. I'd like to call it taking a break to re-evaluate. Either way, I've got it now. I don't have to be an awesome mom/woman/writer/friend/daughter all the time. It's okay just to be good and sometimes not even reaching that standard is alright. My children will learn that they don't have to be awesome all the time either and that's a good thing. I think some mornings when I am grumpy and they are not doing as they are told I might just announce in a loud silly voice:
"Today we are not awesome and that's okay! Say it with me folks!"
And have them repeat after me in their own silly voices. Heck you can say it with me too:
Today I am not awesome and that's okay.
Doesn't that feel better already?
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Options
My mornings in St.John's look like this: wake up, get kids dressed, head to Coffee Matters, drink a cafe mocha and have Joon map out our walking journey that day. One day my sister took the kids and I went for a walk on my own. Something said to me, "try that little cafe on the steps you saw the other day." So I did. Though I couldn't remember exactly where it was I figured I would just walk wherever I felt like and I would find it. I did.
I tried to sit outside, but the tables were sticky. I looked for a napkin to wash the table off, but I couldn't find them in the cafe. I was getting frustrated. Looked like I would be sitting inside during this beautiful day. So I chose a seat in the back of the cafe. There were 50's style Jesus paintings on the walls, such a strange feeling of nostalgia I had while looking at them...
Then he walked in. Laptop in hand, eyes searching the walls. My headphones were on and music was blasting. But I caught his attention and motioned to the hanging extension cord at the next table.
I had all the recent albums I purchased spread across my table, my journal was filled with scribbles about the show I had seen the night before. I immersed myself in my writing again. Then a tap on my shoulder, he's offering me a bite of his chocolate something or other. I kindly turn him down with a shake of my head and a smile. Refusing to take off my headphones and break this amazing creative space I am in. So 15 minutes later and I am finished my first draft of my blog post. That's when I come back to reality and realize, he probably was the reason I was told to come here.
So I started up a conversation to see where it goes. Turns out he's a digital nomad. Someone who does his work via the internet and travels wherever he wants supporting himself all the while. This is exactly what I want to do. I want to find work that will allow me to travel freely. Not only is he a digital nomad, but he also hosts a meetup group to help other digital nomads share information and tips on how to do this successfully. I told him that I need a skill that travels and makes money (I can write, but there hasn't been much money coming in from that). So he asks me: what do you like?
I told him that I love human rights, particularily when it comes to medical situations. I describe to him my doula work. Then he says: I'm sorry but I have to interupt you, I just had a flash and I need to show you this:
It was one of his client's websites. They sell TENS machines and they are looking for sales reps. You choose your target market, you choose where to sell them. I could travel anywhere there are healthcare facilities and sell them... And yes that is right up my alley.
After another hour of conversation I had to go, I thanked him for the exchange. He gave me his email address to keep him informed on how it was going for me. I haven't emailed him yet, nor have I looked into the TENS sales opportunity. I feel like I need a year to sort things out, maybe during this year I will begin to look into those options. I try not to think of obstacles, but there is a fairly large one when it comes to me travelling with my kids. Making sure they get time with their father. They are not old enough to fly on their own yet and that only would come into play if their father was willing to change up his schedule with them. So instead, I am planning a 3-4 week vacation next fall and perhaps a few small excursions in the meantime, just to lightly scratch my travelling itch while my kids get older.
I tried to sit outside, but the tables were sticky. I looked for a napkin to wash the table off, but I couldn't find them in the cafe. I was getting frustrated. Looked like I would be sitting inside during this beautiful day. So I chose a seat in the back of the cafe. There were 50's style Jesus paintings on the walls, such a strange feeling of nostalgia I had while looking at them...
Then he walked in. Laptop in hand, eyes searching the walls. My headphones were on and music was blasting. But I caught his attention and motioned to the hanging extension cord at the next table.
I had all the recent albums I purchased spread across my table, my journal was filled with scribbles about the show I had seen the night before. I immersed myself in my writing again. Then a tap on my shoulder, he's offering me a bite of his chocolate something or other. I kindly turn him down with a shake of my head and a smile. Refusing to take off my headphones and break this amazing creative space I am in. So 15 minutes later and I am finished my first draft of my blog post. That's when I come back to reality and realize, he probably was the reason I was told to come here.
So I started up a conversation to see where it goes. Turns out he's a digital nomad. Someone who does his work via the internet and travels wherever he wants supporting himself all the while. This is exactly what I want to do. I want to find work that will allow me to travel freely. Not only is he a digital nomad, but he also hosts a meetup group to help other digital nomads share information and tips on how to do this successfully. I told him that I need a skill that travels and makes money (I can write, but there hasn't been much money coming in from that). So he asks me: what do you like?
I told him that I love human rights, particularily when it comes to medical situations. I describe to him my doula work. Then he says: I'm sorry but I have to interupt you, I just had a flash and I need to show you this:
It was one of his client's websites. They sell TENS machines and they are looking for sales reps. You choose your target market, you choose where to sell them. I could travel anywhere there are healthcare facilities and sell them... And yes that is right up my alley.
After another hour of conversation I had to go, I thanked him for the exchange. He gave me his email address to keep him informed on how it was going for me. I haven't emailed him yet, nor have I looked into the TENS sales opportunity. I feel like I need a year to sort things out, maybe during this year I will begin to look into those options. I try not to think of obstacles, but there is a fairly large one when it comes to me travelling with my kids. Making sure they get time with their father. They are not old enough to fly on their own yet and that only would come into play if their father was willing to change up his schedule with them. So instead, I am planning a 3-4 week vacation next fall and perhaps a few small excursions in the meantime, just to lightly scratch my travelling itch while my kids get older.
Thursday, July 14, 2016
The Diamonds In The Rock
Okay, back to the wild and wonderful world of self-exploration via travel. In the immortal words of Ani Difranco "I just got kinda....distracted."
For months before I left, my desire was to immerse myself in the St.John's music culture. I wanted to see a new band every night. I wanted to converse in order to understand how this musical community thrived on an island so harsh and barren it is known as The Rock.
Apparently the answer was in the question; almost every musician/artist I talked to had the same theory, which I am going to use a Dylan Thomas quote to describe:
"Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
They described the colourful homes as a way to counter the thick St.John's fog.
The music to drown out the gale, and to forget the drowned.
The dancing to prove that their bodies were not still...yet.
Harsh conditions can create such beauty...
And resilience.
It's no secret that Newfoundland is having some serious economical challenges. With oil prices so low and the over spending by the government during the short lived boom: There is much unrest. Posters are everywhere in the city, calling the Premier to resign. Unemployment is rising and those with jobs often need more than one. Darnell, a thickly accented musical theatre actor, explained to me that he (along with his theatre work) needs two jobs. He's a chef at a restaurant down the street during the day and a bouncer at a pub at night.
"I know you can't tell looking at me, but I get punched 3-4 times a night... Guess eventually the bruises stop showing up."
A lack of resources is the best way to become resourceful. That is the grit that you can sense in a Newfoundlander. Central Ontarians are soft and reserved, in our comfortable food-only-a-few-hours-away towns. These islanders are hard, wild and beautiful in their expression of rebellion. They rage like the ocean and unapologetically dance on their watery graves. Listen to the music of the Newfoundlanders and you will hear the sorrow and the never ending fight. I give to you this beautiful example from The Fortunate Ones, introduced to me by Alexi, the Coffee Matters, Barista who came out and shared a beer, his musical knowledge and other musings... https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xj8IlanhTQE
For months before I left, my desire was to immerse myself in the St.John's music culture. I wanted to see a new band every night. I wanted to converse in order to understand how this musical community thrived on an island so harsh and barren it is known as The Rock.
Apparently the answer was in the question; almost every musician/artist I talked to had the same theory, which I am going to use a Dylan Thomas quote to describe:
"Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
They described the colourful homes as a way to counter the thick St.John's fog.
The music to drown out the gale, and to forget the drowned.
The dancing to prove that their bodies were not still...yet.
Harsh conditions can create such beauty...
And resilience.
It's no secret that Newfoundland is having some serious economical challenges. With oil prices so low and the over spending by the government during the short lived boom: There is much unrest. Posters are everywhere in the city, calling the Premier to resign. Unemployment is rising and those with jobs often need more than one. Darnell, a thickly accented musical theatre actor, explained to me that he (along with his theatre work) needs two jobs. He's a chef at a restaurant down the street during the day and a bouncer at a pub at night.
"I know you can't tell looking at me, but I get punched 3-4 times a night... Guess eventually the bruises stop showing up."
A lack of resources is the best way to become resourceful. That is the grit that you can sense in a Newfoundlander. Central Ontarians are soft and reserved, in our comfortable food-only-a-few-hours-away towns. These islanders are hard, wild and beautiful in their expression of rebellion. They rage like the ocean and unapologetically dance on their watery graves. Listen to the music of the Newfoundlanders and you will hear the sorrow and the never ending fight. I give to you this beautiful example from The Fortunate Ones, introduced to me by Alexi, the Coffee Matters, Barista who came out and shared a beer, his musical knowledge and other musings... https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xj8IlanhTQE
Thursday, July 7, 2016
Goodbye Canes
It is with a strange bitter sweetness that I give away my canes. I remember when I reluctantly began to use one, I had so much pride, I was so insecure about being seen with it. The day that I made it all the way up my hill from downtown, I learned that pride had held me back from so much. What I had originally saw as a symbol of confinement was actually my access to freedom.
Though my legs and vertigo seemed to only get worse and eventually a wheelchair became necessary for many out of home tasks, they paved the way for my acceptance of the wheelchair, or at least for not being embarrassed to be seen in it.
All trials are teachers, this I believe. So if I could be candid with those I love, I'd really like to share some first hand knowledge with you:
I don't wish to speak for everyone with an assistive device, but I think it is safe to say this:
We are generally tired and in pain when we are out, that is why we have the assistive device. It is draining to explain our medical situation to people who sees us, it is also draining to find ways to politely not tell you our medical situation, mostly because we know you are coming from a good place and we do not wish to hurt your feelings. A simple: Hey how are you? Will suffice. If we feel like talking about why we suddenly have a cane or wheelchair we will. Otherwise, please carry on as if nothing is different. For my part, I was acutely aware of how different things were for me and I really appreciated any sort of normality I could get at that time.
I am so grateful for the lessons I recieved during my time of disability. I know it's time to let go of my fear of ever needing to hold my canes again. Faith. I'm crying right now because I truly have faith in my body to be healthy and strong, and I feel for that woman who was me who thought she may never walk unassisted again.
I am a miracle. I forget that some days, but not today.
Monday, June 27, 2016
Lovers Be Warned: St. John's Holds My Heart.
I was reading one of my posts from my last trip, the one where I woke up and felt the reality sink in that my ex was gone forever. I was alone, and the thought of that future seemed so daunting. Immediately afterward I opened my journal to my most recent entry. It was written at an open mic. I realized quite suddenly that right now the idea of a future with a romantic partner feels surreal: maybe even impossible. How could I expect a lover to follow me around the world, or patiently wait until my wanderlust is spent and I fall breathless, exhausted back into his/her bed? Who would want to fall in love with someone whose ultimate goal in life is to leave for weeks at a time? To find intimacy (though not physical) with strangers?
I have been feeling an undefinable inner conflict with my most recent (and very new) relationship, but I didn't understand why I bounced back and forth between wanting to keep it casual and nurturing the possibility of love. It's because I gave up the life I wanted to be with a man who simply could not travel the way I wanted to. I won't do that again. St.John's solidified that for me:
This island with it's steep sloping fjords, covered in trees so wind-battered that they grow entangled with each other to survive... She is like me. She falls fast and deep yet stands high above sea level, her heart bursting with colour, her pulse the music that drowns out the gale, her light that draws many a sailor into her bay...
Walking downtown I realized that I wanted to possess St.John's; I wanted to call it home, make it mine. Then a voice says to me: can't you be happy just knowing it exists and that you got to inhabit it, even if just for a week? That it will continue to exist as you do, even if not in your direct reality?
I have been feeling an undefinable inner conflict with my most recent (and very new) relationship, but I didn't understand why I bounced back and forth between wanting to keep it casual and nurturing the possibility of love. It's because I gave up the life I wanted to be with a man who simply could not travel the way I wanted to. I won't do that again. St.John's solidified that for me:
This island with it's steep sloping fjords, covered in trees so wind-battered that they grow entangled with each other to survive... She is like me. She falls fast and deep yet stands high above sea level, her heart bursting with colour, her pulse the music that drowns out the gale, her light that draws many a sailor into her bay...
Walking downtown I realized that I wanted to possess St.John's; I wanted to call it home, make it mine. Then a voice says to me: can't you be happy just knowing it exists and that you got to inhabit it, even if just for a week? That it will continue to exist as you do, even if not in your direct reality?
I realized I need to feel this way about my lovers as well. The feeling of relief with this thought was overwhelming. I felt gratitude for those I am blessed to be able to share my love with at this moment, all those in my past who still walk this world, the ones I shared a coffee "moment" with and
those in my future. I have been intimate with so many people over the last year, in conversation, art
and music, though only one physically...Why some of them I am fine with moving on from and others I want to hold onto... This is still a mystery to me.
St.John's is one of those I wish to hold on to. She was my lover, my mirror image. However, for now, it appears we are simply not meant to be together. I do like to imagine that over the next couple of years I will find a way to be back with my beloved and I will curl myself into her nooks and crannies while the damp cold winds of winter swirl around her coast.
those in my future. I have been intimate with so many people over the last year, in conversation, art
and music, though only one physically...Why some of them I am fine with moving on from and others I want to hold onto... This is still a mystery to me.
St.John's is one of those I wish to hold on to. She was my lover, my mirror image. However, for now, it appears we are simply not meant to be together. I do like to imagine that over the next couple of years I will find a way to be back with my beloved and I will curl myself into her nooks and crannies while the damp cold winds of winter swirl around her coast.
Sunday, June 19, 2016
Miracles in the Mundane
I unzipped the black pull along suitcase. Tiny shells like crumbled crackers were settled in the corners. The smell of ocean flowed over the sides and I leaned in breathing deep. I tried my best to scrape them out with my fingers, but in the end it just seemed right to let the east mingle west on the plane ride home. Perhaps one day a dusting of broken shells from yet another Ocean will be added to the mix.
Now I could be finishing my packing, but instead I am drinking Beer at the pub and watching the sunset. I live in a beautiful part of the world. I have good friends and a great community in which to raise my kids. I am blessed.
Sometimes I think I want more. Sometimes I try to push too much into a small space. I limit the happiness I feel from what I already have in order to fit in the joy from something new in. Problem is, the joy from the new is fleeting and unstable. I need to keep my gratitude for the miracles that may otherwise become mundane.
The mundane is a miracle. We look for grandiose signs; burning bushes, angels and resurrection, but our own chests rise every minute with no conscious effort. Literally more than a miracle every minute takes place inside your own body.
People are looking to connect with God, what they don't realize is that they're connected already. They expect God to speak in a big booming voice or in tongues. But God whispers in spinning poplar leaves, rumbles in your heart beat and laughs with thunder.
Everything you experience with your senses is God telling you:
I am here. I am here. I am here.
Faith is answering back:
I know. I know. I know.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Thursday, June 9, 2016
To My Dad
Amongst the many articles about rape culture and fathers perpetuating it, I want to take a moment to give a shout out to my dad. To my father, who taught self defense (which I absorbed via osmosis) to the youth in our community, females and males equally. While doing so enforcing the idea that no one should touch you without your permission, and vice versa. To my father who didn't hang mildly pornographic magazines objectifying women in his gym. To my father who focused on building self confidence via personal challenges and self discipline. To my dad who never uttered a word about women "asking" for it. To my dad who never used the term "slut" or "whore" when describing a female. The sexual jokes you made (which were rare in my presence) were never degrading towards women.
I didn't realize until I got older, that my father was the exception. That he was surrounded by a rape culture, yet never perpetuated it in my presence. So, thank you dad, for being a decent guy and setting the standards for the behaviour I will and will not accept from men in my life.
I didn't realize until I got older, that my father was the exception. That he was surrounded by a rape culture, yet never perpetuated it in my presence. So, thank you dad, for being a decent guy and setting the standards for the behaviour I will and will not accept from men in my life.
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