Today I Grieve

Today, I grieve.  My house is no longer my home and for whatever reason, the act of packing, taking the pictures off the wall, putting the books in boxes, taking down the curtains, makes my heart ache. I’ve known this was coming and yet losing my home makes being divorced much more final.  The ink has been dry on the divorce papers for two years.  The kids have adjusted well.  The marital bed along with sheets, pillows and blankets left my bedroom long ago.  I thought my grieving was over. I was wrong. 

With every picture I take off the wall I remember the hopes and the dreams that came with the beginning of a marriage.  With every book and knick knack that gets tucked into a box I remember the joy, the plans and the love that once was.  There’s a story, a memory behind everything that I touch. 

Today I took a picture of my dad off the wall, the same picture that hung in my mother’s home and my grandmother’s home.  I wrapped my arms around this picture, sunk to the floor in the hallway of my empty house and sobbed.  Now I cry all the time, over books, movies, happy times or sad, there are always tears but today I sobbed, deep gut wrenching sobs, the keening sound of a wounded animal, when everything is laid bare and nothing is held back.  Taking my dad’s picture off the wall brought all my heart breaks crashing down around me. 

My grandparents were married for more than 60 years.  My parents were married for 37 years. My sister has been married for 17 years.  I come from a long line of until death did them part.  My parents bought a home and raised us in the same town forever.  I went back as an adult to my childhood home, with my children.  This was my dream, my plan, to be married forever, to give my children the stability of a forever home, to raise my children and then spoil my grandchildren and to share that with my husband.  I dreamed of a forever family. 

I stood before God and made a promise that I couldn’t keep.  I feel like I failed, that I couldn’t love enough, be accepting enough, be strong enough.  Divorce is painful no matter why it happens.  I knew right from the beginning of the end that I was mourning the loss of my dreams more than I was mourning the loss of a man.  I think that makes it harder, not easier.  It’s much easier to see that there will be other men, much harder to believe that there will be other dreams. 

So I grieve, for the loss of my hopes and dreams.  I grieve the loss of innocence.  I grieve the loss of trust.  I grieve because I was part of causing so much pain to the man I loved so deeply and to my children. I grieve for the loss of in-laws that are gone from me now.   I grieve for the loss of my happily ever after.  I grieve for the loss of my home.  Tears fall and I grieve.  There is no anger, no regrets, just heartache. 

I know grief is part of healing.  I know that in time I will come to love my new home.  I know in time I will forgive myself for my part in this.  I know that there will be new love, new hopes, new dreams.  I know that this experience has made me a stronger, more compassionate person.  I have met this challenge with grace, wisdom, strength and courage.  In all things, as we journey through life we meet our challenges, we grow from them and we move on.  Today I grieve so my heart can heal and I can move on. 

Divine Appointment?

A few years ago I received an email in my inbox inviting me to I Can Do It, Toronto.  This is a big Hay House conference that happens in many locations year after year.  I opened this email, looked at the calendar and thought it might be an interesting thing to do.  Within an hour I had booked my flight, made arrangements to stay with a friend, bought conference tickets and arranged childcare.  Little did I know this one weekend would change my life. 

While there I decided to sign up for a past life regression workshop.  I didn’t believe at the time but it was something my mom had talked about for years and I was sure it would be a lark.  Walking into the room I was disturbed.  Sitting in my chair I became anxious and it was all I could do not to run from the room.  I told myself I was being silly, that there was nothing to worry about.  Yet my fear was palpable.  Denise Linn led that group past life regression, taking us to a safe place, allowing us to meet our spirit guides and then walking us through the mists of time.  I sobbed through the whole experience.  I felt more than I wanted to feel.  I learned more about myself than I wanted to learn.  I couldn’t talk, couldn’t cease crying.  All I wanted was to be safe in the arms of my mother.  So I ran, found a bus and cried all the way home to my best friend. 

Before I left that weekend I bought some of Denise Linn’s books and embarked on an interesting and life changing course.  I was very afraid to ‘remember’ anything so I set out to discover my past without visiting it.  Over time and with work memories started to spontaneously come to me.  When it became overwhelming I would shut down but more and more I wanted to know who I had been, where I had come from, how my past was shaping my present. 

I have remembered my parents, my grandparents, my best friend, my children and seen how previous patterns show up and are repeated.  But more than remembering, this explained to me why sometimes you meet someone that just feels right.  I have come to understand that soulmates are not just destined lovers.  They are people that show up again and again over lifetimes. Those people who have a significant impact on your life are people that have touched your life before, for good or bad. 

This brings me to contemplate destiny or divine appointment… I show up here at this time and you show up too.  Was it destined?  Did we have a divine appointment?  Did you know that I was ready for that lesson or perhaps I needed you now?  I don’t believe in coincidence so that means we were meant to be here together, sharing this part of our life, this conversation.  I think about Denise Linn who’s workshop changed my life.  I think about my teacher who has had such a huge impact on my personal evolution.  I think about the man who sit’s next to me on an airplane.  Are there any chance meetings? 

The one thing I know, when I show up here and you show up here we then have a choice.  We can recognize each other and move forward together learning what we came together to learn or we can deny this encounter as chance, move on and miss an opportunity to become more than we were.  Over a lifetime we will have many appointments to keep but we also have free will as to what we do after those meetings.  Sometimes we see right to the heart and soul of someone.  Other times we get to know them slowly.  And still other times we are blinded perhaps by fear, doubt, insecurities and we chose to close our eyes, see nothing and move on quickly. 

My deepest desire is to open my mind and my heart to the possibilities.  I don’t want to miss any opportunities.  I am here, where are you? 

Breaking Out of the Box

"Over and over again those people that are changing and developing realize they have contained themselves in too small of a cognitive or emotional box.  Each time they realize they are in a box fashioned of their beliefs and fears, they struggle to find greater freedom." ~ Kylea Taylor, The Ethics of Healing.



I found this in my required reading for one of my classes this week and it really spoke to me.  Over and over I have found myself in a box that is too small.  I have been defined by my parents, my teachers, my friends and especially my romantic partners.  I have grown comfortable in these boxes and accepted them as my own.  Yet there is a part of me that screams to be free.  There is a part of me that feels that I'm dying inside so I struggle to break out of the boxes I'm placed in.  Over and over I push the limits that have been placed upon me. For how long can I deny my authentic self?

It is this struggle to truly live that has shaped much of the last few years of my life.  I am exploring myself, living my bucket list, going beyond the predictable.  I have worked at shedding the definitions placed upon me by my parents, my ex-husbands and most importantly myself.  I have done things I never would have contemplated before, climbed mountains and zip lined down them, jumped off a cliff into the water below, sailed and surfed and swum naked in the ocean.  I have taken classes, volunteered my time and found my passion.  I have enrolled in college and become a yoga teacher. 

I thought I was doing well.  I have faced my fears and done it anyways.  I have shed old definitions of myself.  I have grown and stretched my box.  I thought I was free.  Then something happened to shake me and I had to wonder are we ever really free?  Perhaps we change the shape of our box or the color, perhaps we cut little windows in our box but do we ever take down the walls to truly live freely and comfortably as our authentic self? 

As I started to really think about my authentic self I came to realize how rarely that true me shines through.  Most often she is found in my own home, surrounded by my own children.  When people come into my home they can catch a glimpse here and there of this authentic elusive me.  But once I step through the door into the wide world of the unknown I'm beset by fears, doubts and insecurities.  I realize how rarely I speak my mind or express my preferences, how often I say I don't care. Do I truly not care or do I not feel that my wants and needs are important enough to be heard?  I label myself as shy, reserved, contained.  I have been heard to say that I don't like people. Rarely do I share me with anyone outside of my home.  This saddens me.  I think I am a great person, yet I am depriving the world of my beautiful inner self.  To paraphrase Marianne Williamson "who am I not to let my light shine?" 

There are people that I care deeply about that don't get to see my authentic self.  I care, so I am more inclined to hold back, not speak my truth, not show myself.  I feel that by not giving people the chance to see the real me, if I'm rejected, not loved, it isn't really about me.  Then there are people, like Pete my postman or Bob the deli guy, that have been a part of my life for years that get to see the true me every time.  I've developed a great friendship with my mailman over the years and it doesn't matter what my mood is, how bad I look, what I'm dealing with, when he shows up and honks his horn I go to him and share whatever might be happening on that day, with no fear.

I watch my children live their lives with abundance, with confidence and excitement and I wonder when and where I lost that.  I wonder how to get that back.  I wonder at what point I will be sure that exactly who I am is enough.  The truth is by not living my authentic self, by not speaking for what I want, by holding back I am shortchanging myself and all those who meet me. 

I have come to realize that over and over we expand our thoughts, our feelings and our beliefs.  The boxes we put ourselves in may become bigger but never truly fall away.  Becoming aware of where we limit ourselves is just the first step to finding our freedom.  There will always be ideas that stretch us.  There will always be new situations to experience.  As I contemplate the box that I am presently in I am deeply uncomfortable. I am struggling to find freedom.  I am struggling to release my authentic self and live fully.  I am practicing opening my heart, feeling things more, speaking my truth. 

This is me, without apologies.

Reflections on writing

Over the last four weeks of this Writing for Publication class I have started my own blog, researched different avenues for publication, written articles and grown in my confidence and abilities.  It has been an interesting process.  I have always loved to write.  I write letters.  I write lists.  I write emails.  I write in my journal.  Since I was a child I have always wanted to be a writer.  But at some point, my busy life, my lack of confidence and my insecurities got in the way.  I've told my best friend over and over that I'm going to write a book someday.  The book has changed over the years, once upon a time it was a children's story or perhaps a romance novel.  Now there are two or three books waiting in my mind for pen to be put to paper.  They have names and outlines yet I'm afraid that they will continue to wait and the pen will never meet the paper. 
Writing because I had to, not because I wanted to was a novel idea for me.  I write to get things out of my head, to express myself.  I write to share pieces of myself with others because it is so much easier to express myself on paper.  Words get caught up in my throat and I can't express what I want to say so I sit silent.  Even when I do manage to open my mouth and say something so often it doesn't come out the way I want it to.  I call it being shy or reserved.  Perhaps that really isn't my problem.  Perhaps the problem is more that I struggle with having the confidence to really express my innermost thoughts.  In this class I had to write, not by choice, but because it was a requirement.  Not only did I have to write but then I had to take my thoughts and post them for others to see.  This was a big leap for me.  Again it comes back to confidence.  I struggled but I did what was asked of me. 
Taking it one step further, not just posting my blog for my friends and family on facebook, not just submitting to my teacher and other students that struggle with the same fears, but submitting for publication scares me deep down to my soul.  How can I take my private thought processes and put them out there for others to read, to critique?  I searched through different options looking for a place where I would be comfortable and I couldn't find one.  I have a very personal style.  I don't feel that I would fit in just anywhere.  I finally made my choice.  I like elephant journal - the style and the feel. Once deciding that this is where I would submit my writing I ran into a new problem.  I don't want to submit my writing to someone else.  Once I submit to elephant journal I can't post it on my own blog.  But it is my writing.  I don't want to share it somewhere else. 
I feel that I have made road blocks in my own mind.  This was difficult for me.  I like the idea of submitting my writing to someone else.  I like the idea of having someone else edit my writing.  I like the idea of being exposed to many more readers.  I don't like the idea of sharing my innermost thoughts with strangers.  I don't like the idea of letting go of even the littlest bit of control.  I know I will continue to write for my own blog.  I hope that I will bring those books out of my head some day.   I can't say as to whether or not I will ever submit my writing for publication again until I see the end result of the process.  I want to see how it feels to be published somewhere else.  I want to see how it feels to have my writing edited. 
From start to finish this was a challenging process and one that I very much enjoyed.  I learned much about myself and about the writing process.  Even if I never do submit my writing for publication, even if I never do write a book, I know that I will always use writing as a method for taking my thoughts out of the merry-go-round in my head and clarifying my thoughts.

Divinely Human

Homework this week is to type for ten minutes without ceasing and without editing, so except for fixing  typos and spelling this is what I've come up with.  

My teacher says to sit with your emotions but it is so hard.  Just recently someone said to me, either we spend our energy running from our stuff or dealing with our stuff.   Most of the time it is a combination of both that we do every day, some days we run, some days we turn and face it.  Other days if we’re up for the challenge we sit with it.  Sitting with our stuff is hard.  Sitting and feeling our emotions, our joys and our sorrows, our hopes and our fears is hard.  So instead we run and we hide.  Some of us run into drugs or alcohol.  Some of hide in a tv show, a book or a computer game.  Some of us bury our head in work or soothe our hearts with food.  No matter what we do we are doing exactly what we need to do to survive.  We are doing exactly what we need to do to make it through the day. 

I must say the absolute strength and courage of people amazes me.  I look at what people go through, illness, abuse, loss and yet somehow they get up again every day and put one foot in front of the other and keep going.  This is the amazing gift that we all share, the resilience of the human spirit.  There are days when I want to curl up in bed and pull the cover’s over my head, seven kids, a messy divorce, financial problems, school work, housework… all these things calling my name.  There are days when I sit with my emotions, walk through my day with tears or sorrow or fear.  But every day I keep going.  I put one foot in front of the other.  It never ends.  All we can do is keep going. 

The longing in my heart is for peace.  This is my ultimate goal, that no matter what the day holds in store for me, no matter if it is a good day or a bad day, I can walk through my day with peace.  I hold this goal in my heart.  The biggest thing that I have done to find this peace is to sit with my emotions.  I don’t try to run, I don’t try to fix them, I don’t even try to understand why.  I just sit.  Some days I notice this ease in my body, my breath flows, my heart doesn’t ache and I realize this is peace.  Other days I feel so much, my heart aches and I feel compassion for myself.  Learning to feel compassion for myself is vital to accepting and sitting with my emotions. 

Why is it so hard to be kind to ourselves?  To feel compassion for ourselves?  We can all look at other people and see their struggles and find it in our hearts to be compassionate.  But when we look at ourselves we are so hard on ourselves, we are our own worst critics.  In searching for peace I have learned to not criticize, to not judge, to not demean myself  but to just be with me.  In sitting with myself I have come to find compassion, forgiveness and a gentleness that I never had before.  Those emotions then are passed on to my children, my family, my friends and it becomes so much easier to live from a place of love rather than a place of fear. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m human.  There are days when I lose my temper and I’m short on patience.  There are days that I whine and complain, maybe even gossip a little.  There are days when I do pull the blankets over my head and hide in my bed.   There are days when my heart hurts and I cry.  There are days when I neglect my responsibilities and spend all day reading a trashy romance.  There are days when everything is just too hard and I am divinely human.  The difference is that I can find acceptance and love in my heart for myself on those days.  And I know that I will get up and I will go on. 

One of my favourite quotes states “you are not a failure if you fall down, only if you stay down.”  I know I will fall down over and over and over.  That’s okay.  We all fall down when we are learning to walk.  I am learning to walk my own, authentic path.  I will fall down.  But I know that there is nothing that will keep me down.  I will get back up, no matter how many times I fall.  I will get back up.  This is the resilience of the human spirit, the ability to get back up, to keep going.  I stand in awe at the strength I see in people everywhere and I am honored to be divinely human. 

Inspired by Love

It's 95 degrees out and I'm at the local  beach with my kids.  I watch the other parents with their children. It warms my heart to see all these different families, parents, siblings, friends come together in one place.  Families come in all shapes and sizes now, single parents, married parents, grandparent-parents, step parents, same sex parents, adopted parents.  People also come in all shapes and sizes, short, tall, fat, thin, rich, poor, some with college degrees, some without, some with jobs, some without.   Yet with all our differences there is one thing we have in common.  As parents we share hopes and dreams, fears and insecurities and above all, an all-consuming love.  We all long to give our children a better life.  We all share the fear that we have let our children down in some way.  We all love our children beyond reason. 

So I sit in the sand and watch my children swim and play.  I build sandcastles with them.  I cherish these times with them and I think about what I’ve learned from these seven wonderful gifts that have been entrusted to my care.  There are the basics - patience, restraint, kindness, communication.  But more than that… from one child I have learned about a fierce loyalty, determination and drive.  From a different child I have learned about sheer courage, the need to fight injustice and to stand up for what is right.  One child has taught me about joy – the true joy that comes from living every moment to the fullest.  A different child has the kindest heart of anyone I’ve met and so I learn about giving the best of one’s self, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts.  Another child feels everything so deeply, his example has taught me to laugh and to cry and to accept the feelings that flow through us.  My firstborn child has taught me how to let go, how to forgive (especially myself) and how to accept people in all their differences.  From my youngest child I have learned to believe in myself and to believe in a true deep abiding love that spans lifetimes.

These are just a few of the lessons I have learned from my children.  My lessons are nowhere near complete.  It has been eighteen years of learning and a lifetime still to come, eighteen years of growing, of stretching my heart every day.  Yet the biggest thing I have learned from my children is how to love.   I don’t have to approve.  I don’t have to understand.  I don’t have to like what they do.  I just have to accept them exactly as they are and love them.  When they are scared, I love them.  When they are angry or rebellious, I love them.  When they are irritating or silly, I love them.  When they throw up all over the house in the middle of the night, I clean it up and I love them even more. 

Just recently I was having a terrible day.  I was foul-natured and miserable.  I was human, yelling at my children and crying.  The very boy that I had just been nasty to came to stand in front of me and said “YOU need a hug.”  As I hugged him and apologized for my behavior, I was touched by a no matter what kind of love.       

Every day these children find new ways to stretch my heart.  They inspire me to new heights of greatness, to new depths of despair and to new pinnacles of joy.  In the journey we have shared, from the innocence of each tiny newborn baby to the amazing young men they have become, they have showed me what kind of person I would like to be.  This is the gift my children have given to me.  This is love.  In this love I find inspiration.  I am moved to tears, to anger, to grief, to joy, to fear but mostly to love again and again, every day.  I chose to love them.   They chose to return that love.  We hold onto each other with love.  We hold the space for all of us to learn and grow in this love.  This love shapes them.  This love shapes who I am and everything I do.  They have taught me how to love truly and deeply with no lines and no limits. 

This is love. 

The True Story of A Buddha

 

Here I sit, all day, every day.  I perch up here in the corner watching life go by.

Once long ago I was carved and polished.  I felt the love of my creator in every touch.  The intricate details of my soul carved out of wood for all to see.  Oiled and polished to a shine I was shipped off to a store where I sat and watched the people come and go.  In and out, every day people would pass me by.  Then one day I saw her.  She smiled at me.  She ran her hands over my head.  I could feel the love in her. But reluctantly she placed me back on the shelf and walked away.  I thought my heart would break.  I was prepared to return to my loneliness, to continue my wait for a home.  Then she turned back to me.  She picked me up and held me to her heart. 

She brought me home with her that day.  My heart found a home that day.  My heart found love that day.  I was put in a place of pride, on a bookshelf in her bedroom.  Every day she would rub her hands over my head.  I could feel the love she felt for me.  I knew that I was precious to her.  I knew I was dearly loved.  Did she know that I loved her too?   Did she feel how happy I was to be home, watching over her?  All of my dreams had come true. 

But one day things changed.  I was moved from the bedroom to sit in the living room.  Now I perch up here in the corner watching life go by.  She never rubs my head anymore.  I feel so far away, so lonely.  And yet there is nothing I can do.  I watch.  I see the whole family come and go.  I hear the joys and the sorrows, the fun and the fights.  They are my family and I watch over them.  I look down on them with love.

But do they see how lonely I am up here in my corner?  I wonder sometimes in my loneliness who or what has taken my place on the bookshelf in the bedroom?  Is there a vase with flowers?  A picture in a frame?  Maybe a plant or a lamp or a sculpture?  Does she run her hands with love over whatever might be there?  Does she bury her face in flowers and inhale their scent?  Does she ever think of me and miss me watching over her while she sleeps? 

I know that things come and go, people come and go, love comes and goes.  It is the cycle of life.  I am not angry that I have lost my place of pride. I do not hate whatever has replaced me.   I am just so grateful that I have had the chance to love and be loved.  There is a time and a season for all things.  I had my time.  Now my time is past.  The hardest thing to do in life is to flow with the seasons of change.  I was created. My heart longed for a home.  I was loved.   And now I have returned to my aloneness.  But it isn’t the loneliness of being homeless and unloved.  Now it is the peace of contentment.  My love will always remain here in my heart.  There is no such thing as loneliness after one has loved and been loved.  True love is forever.  True love lives in my heart as I sit here, perched alone and untouched in the corner, remembering what once was.

Introducing Victoria

In the ebb and flow of life we all experience joys and sorrows, love and fear, hope and despair.  Victoria's goal has always been to find peace in the midst of the ups and downs of life.    In all things she seeks to be guided by the Divine and to honor the light within each one of us.

Victoria was first introduced to yoga in 2010 and immediately was hooked. She joined Yoga New Hampshire's Teacher Training Program with Maureen Miller, E-RYT shortly thereafter and is now a 200 Registered Yoga Teacher, through Yoga Alliance.   As a mother of seven, with many hours of volunteer time at school and with sports teams, it was a natural extension of her love of children to study with Lisa Flynn from Childlight Yoga and with Christy Brock from Yoga Minded.

Now she is currently attending the Southwest Institute of Healing Arts and working on obtaining a diploma as a Mind Body Wellness Practitioner. As a Mind Body Wellness Practitioner she will hold certificates in Hypnotherapy, Life Coaching and Holistic Nutrition. Additionally she is studying with the Bach International Education Program to become a certified Bach Flower Remedy Practitioner.

Victoria believes that there are many paths to wholeness and that we each need to find our own path. Victoria incorporates meditation, yoga, nutrition, coaching and flower remedies on her journey to peace. It is her goal to be able to assist people in discovering what works for them so more people can discover the healing power of peace in their lives.