Being a human with a soul is truly a struggle. The confines of our body. The societal pressures to be “normal”. The fears that wreak havoc on our mind keeping us small and unassuming. Getting too comfortable. Confusing to follow your dreams and loving life if you have no followers. The need to document on Snapchat, Instagram or YouTube but never the true self just a well manicured image. We want to be loved and accepted. But, everything we do proves that we don’t. We are scared to be real because it may lead us away to the unknown. This is scary and different. Who do you think you are? You think you’re better then us? People don’t support you they try to bring you down to their level. Continue reading
I was getting ready for a fundraising event and I had my phone playing music. A slow song came on and I let it play not thinking much about it. The song was over and it repeated. No songs had repeated up to that point, and no song repeated after. It was strange. The song was, “I Believe in Love”. It made me ask, do I believe in love? Continue reading
I took a walk last night around a neighboring town while my daughter was at dance. I don’t live in town and so I find it so interesting to glance in the houses and peek into the owners life if only just for a moment. The poinsettia’s still blooming. The art work on the wall. The hockey game on TV. Continue reading
Here I sit. I looked back in my past at some of my most shameful times in Part 2. I sat in the feelings that came up. I pondered all of it for the next few days. I kept reading Rising Strong by Brene Brown. It dawned on me from her book that Part 2 was completely “my story”. It had truth in it, but it was the victimized, selfish story that I have told myself for 20 plus years.
The truth is that looking at Part 2 is that some of it is not real. It felt very real at the time, but I chose to accept all that was said and done to me. I made myself the victim in the story and not the victor. I feel a part of me stayed face down on the arena floor until now. It is time for all of myself to rise up and see it in a clear light. Continue reading
This journey of discovering my vulnerability has made me examine my past. I have struggled with looking back at my life because I have always thought I don’t want to go back there. I don’t live there anymore. I had this belief for a long time, but after visiting a healer she told me that I have my past, especially with my mother, still held inside. I laughed and cried a bit because I thought, haven’t I dealt with this? The healing also brought up vulnerability and how I needed to face the truth about myself. Continue reading
Bubby: If you believe in God then you go to heaven?
Me: What do you think?
Bubby: Yes. When I die I’ll get to heaven and meet Terry Fox*(see note below)? (He had recently watched a video at school and was very touched by his journey.)
Me: Yes, you would meet Terry Fox. It’s not just believing in God it’s being the good person and being kind to one another and that’s how you get to heaven. (Had to add the being good part)
Bubby: Mom? Will you always be my mom?
Me: Yes. Forever.
Bubby: But, when I die and come back in another life you won’t be my mom?
Me: (I had to pause here, my kid is talking about reincarnation) Well, maybe I’ll come back as your kid and you’ll be my dad. Maybe we will be best friends. Maybe we will get married.
Bubby: Ewwww. (And laughs but quickly gets serious again) Mom one day you’ll die. I don’t like that.
Me: Yes, but then I’ll get to meet Terry Fox and I’ll keep watching over you. And I’ll wait for you to live your life and do amazing things and then you can come join me and Terry Fox in heaven.
Bubby: Don’t be a scary ghost. I’ll lock you out of the house. (Laughing)
Me: One day you’ll get older and you’ll understand it’s not so scary. You and I are bonded forever even if we die we will continue being together. But, until your older and can understand this more just know that right now I’m your mommy in this life. I can see you feel worried and I don’t want you to worry about it anymore.
We snuggled up and watched our movie. But it got me thinking and watching him out of the corner of my eye. How does a little person think such big thoughts? And it occurred to me that it’s the soul talking. It brought up our connection to each other. It may appear it was his anxiety but I believe that my job as his mother is to just awaken his soul memory and that he is a much grander soul then me. And I understand why he came to me in this life.
In the awakening of my soul memory and serving my purpose here on earth I will be able to help my children to remember why they are here. Thank you Bubby for that gift!!
* Terry Fox waas a Canadian athlete, humanitarian, and cancer research activist. In 1980, with one leg having been amputated, he embarked on a cross-Canada run to raise money and awareness for cancer research. Although the spread of his cancer eventually forced him to end his quest after 143 days and 5,373 kilometres (3,339 mi), and ultimately cost him his life, his efforts resulted in a lasting, worldwide legacy. The annual Terry Fox Run, first held in 1981, has grown to involve millions of participants in over 60 countries and is now the world’s largest one-day fundraiser for cancer research; over C$650 million has been raised in his name. (Wikipedia)
I’ve used this term “planting a seed” quite often recently. I had told a friend who was frustrated that she couldn’t get out of old habits. I said in awareness the seed is planted and just like a real seed the plant doesn’t grow overnight. It takes time and nurturing of self to see the growth. If you keep being kind in the change to yourself and the acceptance then great changes are made. A seed in this circumstance is planting a new idea in my mind or maybe yours. It can be asking for what you want and releasing it out to the universe. The seed is the beginning and the end. In real seed life span, you use it to plant but then the seeds are reproduced to keep spreading. Is the seeds you are spreading like weeds infesting other plants or is your seeds planted with love and beauty in mind?
We plant seeds every day in our children. I’ve noticed sometimes the seeds I’ve given out myself have had to be removed because I’ve realized it was damaging and there are times it’s too late for me to change it. I may have to ask for forgiveness and forgive myself. These gardens can easily become infested with garbage thoughts and also can flourish into incredible beauty. But, both needs care and attention. My role as their mom has made me question if I’m the garden attendant or the gardener. But I’m just a seed planter. I hope that a remark or kind word or by my actions will stimulate new growth for them. It can quickly change because my child doesn’t guard their garden and someone comes in and destroys what has been created. Or they plant new seeds that may or may not help. My role is simple that I must teach them how the garden works. It starts with our self.
It’s a crazy seed gardening trip. It’s so easily manipulated and changed. So I focus on planting seeds with great love and to make great positive change. In every action and interaction we are planting seeds among people we are in contact with everyday. Be considerate of those actions and either you are adding beauty and possibly destroying it. Choose well.
I wondered for a few days what to write about this one. I didn’t sense you. This plan with the Signs and Symbols course was to open up our relationship again. It was to create connection. It was to create forgiveness. It did open a door between us. I felt such a good connection with you.
But, I realized this week that the door is closed again. I have gently placed my hand on the door and don’t feel the pain. I don’t feel that you are ignoring me. I just feel that my focus on you is no longer needed. We have healed. You have been able to move on with your soul. I have closed this door that was wedged open for the last 20 years which was held open by my pain in not feeling loved or wanted. As my hand remains on the closed door I don’t feel any of that. I sense that all is well. The door is closed so that I focus on this no more and move on to my purpose.
I thank you Mom for showing me this open and closed door. You will never be forgotten as long as you stay in my memories. But, from this point on the rest of the Signs and Symbols it will be Dear Spirits.
I had a teacher back in junior and senior high that still makes me feel annoyed after this many years. I see him once in awhile and he knows not to make small talk with me. He tried once after high school and I told him to never speak to me. And, in all our years of dealing with each other he has honored that request.
I bring him up and am going to use him in this story, but “he” will actually be many people that did very similar things to me that made a negative impact in my life. I don’t want to paint teachers in a bad way, because I had amazing ones too. I had adults in my life that made a difference. This time I have to face an aspect of it and try to explain it to you.
I entered his classroom in Grade 7. It didn’t take long and he told me that I chewed gum like a cow. We entered this battle ground for the next 6 years. Him telling me I was a shitty student and me telling him no I’m not. But, he had me over a barrel all those years. He graded me unfairly. I know, oh maybe you weren’t such a great student, but truthfully his classes were my worst. It sent me over the top when he wrote on my essay that it was written well, but he didn’t think I understood what I wrote. Nice. He gave me a 35%. If you didn’t get his poetic whit, he thought I cheated. If I approached his desk he would ask what are your idiotic friends up to behind you. So, I would move to the side and ask him the same question. He’d tell me to go sit down. A boy would break apart a computer disk (yes, I’m that old) and throw the pieces at me. I had plastic hanging in my hair. I finally turned around and said stop it. He kicked me out of class. I got a high mark on a multiple choice and he asked if I cheated in front of the class. There was only this one teacher teaching these particular subjects and there wasn’t choice in anyone else or going to a different school.
But, what my point is….. he worked hard on making me feel bad about who I was. Parts of me did not believe him, but there was a part that swallowed it. I had to eat it when I went to the principal and said he marks me unfairly. The principal said I can’t get involved with marks. I was told I wasn’t any good at writing. I dreamed of writing a novel. I loved poetry. I was told I was a fool. I still wrote.
The part that happened that has crippled me is that yes, I did keep writing. I kept writing for me, but those words didn’t leave that place. I fought a lot of what was said to me during high school and all through my life, but I realized that I believed some of it. I was told I was average. I was told I wasn’t good enough. I was told because I was a girl that I didn’t have to aspire to be much. I wasn’t pretty enough. As my issues grew, I didn’t get down on myself, but I did accept it. I accepted that I wasn’t pretty or special. I wouldn’t accept praise because I’d tell a joke and blow it off. I learned to be ok in my place where society had put me, but the fucking genius part of the whole thing was that I didn’t for the longest time really understood that I HAD FUCKING ACCEPTED IT! I deep down accepted that I was nothing. So, I thought I’d protect myself by keeping to myself. That my friends is a downright mother effing lie to yourself. It caused me pain. Pain that has met me at 40 years old. After this many years when the real pain of it is so long gone I am still immobilized by the fear it created. It created that I was scared of what people thought of me. I feared to risk to put myself out there in case of rejection.
I am not who he said I was. I know now that how people act is not about me, but it speaks volumes of them. I think now about that teacher and I think he had most likely started out with aspirations of doing well with his teaching career. He probably felt he would make a difference to most of the children. I bet in all those 6 years he had me in his class he would have never come to the conclusion that I was one of them. He didn’t nurture me. He didn’t praise nor care about how I turned out. I think he kept me at a passing grade to make sure I moved on year after year. But, his actions now has taught me something so valuable that had high school been but a hop skip and jump I wouldn’t have learned it. I allowed how he treated me to become my voice in my head. He spoke poorly of me and I resisted. But, a small part of me accepted it too. I heard it over the years not just from him, but from family, friends, neighbors, adults and my peers. To everyone else: something was always wrong with me. So, I tried speaking out and got shut down. I hid myself and that caused me pain because though I chose it I still felt rejected by the world. No one noticed I wasn’t around. I started stepping out and big things started to change.
I am on this soulful journey so I have been working on awareness. I meditate. I self-heal. I stay present. All my work has come to a huge head with this area that I had to consider was their truth in the quote as it suggests…Was I willing to stay comfortable and content staying broken? I have had the biggest upheaval with this state of being. In awareness, it seems once you know the truth you can’t pretend you don’t know. It causes the worst kind of pain to pretend to be blind. You can always still see the TRUTH.
We hear all the quotes and phrases that say when you fear it do it anyways. But, I am telling you that I really must do this. I must push past all the broken thoughts I have on being me out there in the big wide world. The world that has social media dill hole’s ready to tear me apart. It has the opposite too; the people that will like what I have to say and want more. In the end, if I can’t keep thriving then my life will run down a path of little resistance. It will stay easy and comfortable. When asked is this all I am really meant to do? The answer is no. I know it is not.
I am more than what they say I am. I am more wise. I have such a gift that is so undeniably special and I am ready to keep releasing it out. I am real. I am true. I am more then what they say I am.
Life’s changing people!!
Do you know hard it is to write the truth of your self to the couple people that read this? Extremely difficult. It is one of the reasons I can’t seem to post that often. I have a lot saved in draft but not published. Why? I’m scared. I am so worried that I am going to say the wrong thing. Or it is the right thing and then more is expected.But, it will be my truth. But, you may not agree with me or you will. You may think I’m crazy. I may start to doubt that thought and then I save it in draft and crisis is adverted.
I promised this blog of madness to be honest. I felt that I wanted it to be humorous and spiritual. I am a funny person. I find though that being funny and talking about spiritual things can seem counter productive. But, it seems to me that if I had instead become a monk and done the spiritual side only, then I know I would have longed to be free from that silence. I instead chose a life with a husband and children and in the depths of what many call a normal part of life. But, try as I might to be in awareness of life and have the stresses also has been challenging for the most part.
So, to break up this sometimes awkward feeling I have to tell you the truth of my struggles:
I meditate most mornings. I get up earlier to do this. So, most mornings I can get my mediation in and have a coffee and if the weather is great then I’ll go out on the deck and love the nature before its go time. But, occasionally my husband gets up a little after I do. I have my eyes closed and my headphones on. I am still, silent and present. Then a finger pokes me in the face.
I have read the most mind blowing book, or listened to a podcast that made me want to be a better person starting right now. I am basking in the light of my new found wondrous light and this euphoric state of being and then BANG! A door slams. Muffled argument in the bathroom downstairs between my daughters because one was looking at the other and not staying on their side of the sinks. I yell downstairs “Knock it off you two, or you’ll be sharing a room again!!”
I want to write this blog. My son sits on my lap for a hug. He starts to ask me what I’m doing. He starts to read what I’m writing. He says dad is so funny. He poked you in the face. Oh yes, really funny. He shakes his head about his sisters. He asks, are you trying to write more. I said yes. So, I write….. You need to wash your hands. They are dirty. You are rubbing your eyes with dirty hands. Your eyes are dirty. Please go wash them. You are making mommy dirty. He giggles and says I can’t walk anymore. My legs are broken. Of course they are.
Enlightenment at its finest.