Looking Back at Me

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I hate her, that girl looking back at me. She is broken and wounded. She so desperately wants to be loved. She is willing to play small, to sacrifice herself, sacrifice truth, sacrifice integrity. 

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I love her, that girl looking back at me. She is a super hero, bold and brave and beautiful. She wields her intellect like a light saber, slicing through the mundane, looking for meaning. 

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I feel so much compassion for that girl looking back at me. She tries so hard. In spite of every setback, every loss, every hurt, she shows up with an open heart, ready to forgive and love again. 

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I feel so much admiration for that girl looking back at me. Broken and beaten, she still commits to living fully, experiencing all the adventures, and having all the hard conversations.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I resent her, the girl looking back at her. She makes my life so much more difficult than it has to be. Constantly striving, wanting more, wanting to be better. Always asking me to step up and into my power. 

Sometimes I look into the mirror and I am grateful for that girl looking back at me. She fights hard, for the underdog, for the weak and the scared and the broken. But mostly, she fights for me, for truth and for love. 

Becoming

When the storms have passed and the dust settles a bit, when you lift your head and look around and you can breathe again, who are you now? 

Who do you want to be?

Who have you become? 

Without a thought you can slip into the same person you always were. The ideas and habits fit like a favourite outfit. Quick and easy, you gather what was around you. 

But it feels wrong somehow. Like clothes that are a bit too tight. Patterns that aren't quite right anymore. A life that has gone out of style. 

Who are you now?

Who do you want to be? 

Who have you become? 

Maybe you wonder what's wrong with you? You've always done it this way. Always acted and reacted in these ways. But nothing feels quite right anymore. Something has changed.  

The something is you. You don't fit in the box that was your comfort zone anymore. Trying to make yourself fit doesn't work instead it  makes you feel sick and shamed. No longer content with playing small and swallowing your truth you yearn for a more authentic experience. 

Who are you now?

Who do you want to be? 

Who have you become?

Learning the answers to those questions takes time and effort. It means stretching and growing.  It means exploring where your new values don't line up with old behaviours. It means creating boundaries,  losing people that you love and shedding old habits. 

It means becoming someone new, some one stronger, someone braver. It means creating an honest, authentic, real life experience. It means living a life that aligns with who you are now, after the storms have passed. 

Who are you now?

Who do you want to be? 

Who have you become?

Come Home

I think often of the story of the prodigal son. Both from the perspective of the son who left and from the parent who was left. I know very well what it feels like to be left, abandoned, unwanted. I know what it feels like to have the one I love out there, far away. The last few years have been full of loss. The one you love walks away, shuts you out and leaves you lonely. Its devastating.  

When one you love is out there, the unknowns can chew you up inside. Are they okay? Are they safe? Do they hate you? Do they forgive you? Are they lonely? Or have they found new people to love them? 

Mostly you wonder if they will ever make their way home. 

But on the other side, the prodigal son thought he couldn't come home. His hope was that his father would give him a place with the servants. He thought that he would have to abase himself. He couldn't conceive of the love and joy waiting for him when he found his way back.  He couldn't see his own worth. He didn't realize that he was already forgiven. 

This is a 'no matter what' kind of love.  It is a love that sees your worth when you can't.  It is a love that forgives you before you repent.  It is a love that always welcomes you back home. 

You don't need to be good enough.  You don't need to earn it.  You don't need to ask for it.  You are loved,  no matter what.  

The one who has been left is powerless.  Alone with memories. Memories of laughter and happy times. Memories of arguments and tears. Memories of love. But all the love in the world can not bring them home. The only way is for them to heal their heart and find their own way back. 

There are so many things I'd tell you if I could.  Instead I wait.  I pray.  I send love out into the Universe and I keep hoping that you will come home.  

In the Details

God lives in the details. 

We expect wondrous miracles and grand love stories. The curing of cancer or the surviving of a car wreck or love at first sight. We want something big and flashy that we can point to and say "God did that!"  We are looking for proof, verification of our faith. But God doesn't live there in the big and flashy, God lives in the details. 

My best friend died of cancer, but before she did, she sat beside me on the couch and rested her head on my shoulder. God lives there. 

A child, overwrought and overwhelmed laughs when I comb out her hair and play with her curls. God lives there. 

I held my father's hand and told him it was okay for him to die. God lives there. 

If you need proof that God exists, look at the minutiae. Lady bugs and lightning bugs. Rainbows. Feathers. Seashells. Look at dimples and the sparkle in an eye. Listen to a lullaby, the peepers in the pond, the sound of a bird. 

The night sky spreads out above us, inky blackness, glistening with stars. God lives there. 

We are surrounded by miracles. A spider web covered with dew. A butterfly drying it's new wings. A flower opening it's petals to the sun. 

God lives in raindrops and dew drops, sunrises and sunset, winter snow and spring flowers. God lives in the brightly coloured leaves drifting down from the trees. God lives in the sound of those leaves crunching under feet. 

An infant laughs in delight. A family eats dinner together. A friend calls to check in.  A mother rocks her child. A man forgives his lover. A friend offers comfort. God lives there. 

God lives in the caress of a cheek, a tender kiss, a softly spoken work. God lives in arms that offer comfort and words that offer hope. God lives in pep talks and well wishes. God lives in the smile of a stranger.

Forgiveness, kindness, compassion, truth. God lives there. Love lives there. They are one and the same. 

We Are Better Together

You and me, we are better together. 

I am comforted when I lean on you. 

I am stronger when you hold me up. 

I am happier when you are close to me.

You make me better. 

When you leave me I am devastated.

When I am alone, I don't sleep. 

When we argue, I can't eat. 

I am lost without you. 

Can we stop? Please!

Can we stop arguing? 

Can we stop hurting each other? 

Can we stop using love to batter each other?

Can we fix it? 

Can we trust again?

Can we talk about it?

Can you come home to me? 

Can we hold each other safe once more?

We are better together. 

Delusions

I was born perfect. 

Perfect love. Perfect wonder. Perfect joy. 

I was born into a perfect world, full of perfect opportunities and perfect experiences. 

Pure unlimited love and potential wrapped up in baby soft skin and downy hair. 

I was born perfect. Then I was fed lies and delusions until I took them as my own. 

I believed. 

I believed I was not good enough and that if I tried harder, did more,  I would be worthy. 

I believed I was flawed and unlovable. 

I believed I was not pretty enough.  I believed I was not smart enough. I believed I was not brave enough. 

I tried and tried to become enough. Smart enough, strong enough, kind enough, patient enough, pretty enough.  But enough stayed just out of reach. 

I listened to the lies until they became my own delusions. 

I searched for someone who could love such as I. Yet there was none.  Too talkative. Too emotional.  Too needy. Too adventurous. Too free spirited.  Too much and not enough, all wrapped up in one unlovable package. 

It was all just a delusion, that I took for as truth. 

The Beautiful Tragedy

I swim in the filth of humanity. Violence,  fear and loss. Children who are abused and neglected. Molestation and rape. Bullying. Deprivation. The words themselves sound ugly and painful. 

This is life. A beautiful tragedy. 

An infant with broken limbs, still smiles.

A child with rotting teeth, wants to be hugged.

A teenager in dirty, smelly clothes, worries for their brother. 

A parent addicted to their substance, loves their children. 

And then there is me. 

The homeless, the hoarders, the drug addicts, the rapists. They want to be seen, to be heard, to be valued. They want someone to say "You matter!"  So I sit with them. I listen to their stories. I feel their shame. I create an oasis of safety in a world that condemns them. I swim in the filth of humanity and see the wonder of it. 

I love them. 

I come home and turn off the work phone. Sometimes I need to shower to scrub off the filth of the day. I hug my littles. I practice gratitude. I count my blessings. 

Knowing the car will start when I turn the key.

Shopping without counting how much the things in the cart cost.

Knowing when I swipe my card it will be approved.

Being able to feed my children and the birds too.

Sheets on the bed I sleep in at night.

Having a washer and dryer in my home.

Running water and flush toilets. Lots of families don't even have that luxury.

I am grateful. 

Day after day I swim in the filth of humanity.  Sometimes I am appalled.  Disgusted. Overwhelmed.  Often I cry. But then a small child wraps their arms around me, a teenager smiles and says "Love you babe!", a parent says "Thank you so much for doing this." And it is all worth it. 

I go home at the end of day exhausted, full of heartache. But there is nothing more I can do. So I play. 

I seek out adventures. I turn the music up loud and dance in the kitchen. I play games with my children.  I wiggle my worries away at zumba. I breathe and do yoga. I hike with the dogs. I tell corny jokes and laugh until I cry. I hug my children. I wear flashy leggings and dye my hair purple. I flirt with old men and babies in strollers. I tell people I am grateful for them. I hug strangers. I feel the wonder of being alive. 

Life is tragic. Then it is wondrous. Then it is tragic again. 

The beautiful tragedy fills my days and my heart to bursting. 

Absorbing Heartache

I love my job, even though it breaks me wide open and brings me to tears.  I love the children who enter my office and share their heart break with me. I sit with them. I look in their eyes. I wrap them in my arms and hold them close to my heart. I hear their stories.  

I listen while a child details their experience of being raped.  

I listen while a child tells me about the fights and substance use at home.

I listen while a child sobs in my arms because they know their parent will die from cancer. 

Fear. Violence. Loss.  

These young people are brave and strong.  They walk through the worst pain imaginable and they trust me to hold them safe.  

I listen while a child details their suicide plans. 

I listen while a child talks about going hungry so their siblings have enough to eat. 

I listen while a child sobs in my arms because their parent died from an overdose.

Love and loss. 

They trust me to absorb their heartache. 

I show up for them. Day after day. I hold them. I tell them I love them. I tell them I believe in them. I tell them it's not their fault. I tell them it's okay to be sad and scared. I sit on the floor with them. I give them snacks. 

I don't tell them it's going to be okay. I don't tell them I understand. I don't tell them to hurry back to class. 

Then I come home and I cry. I hold my littles close. I practice gratitude. I pray for them. 

Day after day I absorb all the heartache I can stand. In the dark of the night it leaks out of my eyes and stains my pillow. 

I wouldn't have it any other way.  

Own Your Shit

It's not as easy as you might think. 

Sometimes it's scary, often it's  uncomfortable and definitely messy.

But it's yours and if you want to grow up and be responsible and stop being a victim it is necessary.

Some people never do it.

We play the blame game. It was our mother, our childhood, our ex-wife or our boss. Not me, never me. I didn't.  I couldn't.  It's not my fault.

We are perpetual victims. When we do something or  something happens we throw our hands up in the air and parade out our list of excuses. 

When someone calls us out we jump to defend ourselves.  It's because of our mother, our lover,  our childhood, our boss... but not me. I didn't. I couldn't. 

We stay stuck. Until we own it. Until we find the strength and the courage to say "Yes! I did that. It's mine."

Then we are free. 

We are free to make different choices. Or to make the same choices again and own them openly and honestly. 

Yup, that's my shit. Sometimes it stinks. Sometimes it's messy. Sometimes it's uncomfortable.  But it's mine.

That moment is powerful.  It washes away guilt and shame. All of a sudden we can speak our truth. We can heal from past wounds. 

Of course those things happened with your mother and your lover and your boss. Things happened in your childhood and in your marriage. Life is hard and it hurts. 

But we all have the choice to own our shit or to blame others. We have the choice to speak our truth or hang our head in shame.  Not one of us is perfect but each one of us is imperfectly whole.

It's time to stop denying who you are and what you do. It's time to stand up and own your shit. Claim it. Deal with it. Then move on.

Yes, that's me! I did that. 

In the Darkness

In the darkness of the night quiet music plays and a dog sleeps against my feet. 

Wearing your shirt, my head lies against a soft pillow. 

My eyes drift shut and instantly I'm transported. 

The pillow becomes your shoulder. 

The blankets become your arms around me. 

In the darkness

I hear your heartbeat under my cheek. 

In the darkness I am alone no more. 

I breathe in your scent. 

In the darkness of the night I am held safe. 

In the darkness of the night I am loved. 

In the darkness of the night I am with you once again. 

Adrift

I pray. Every day. 

Do you think God can make sense of the incoherent screaming inside my head? 

You were my anchor in the storms. 

You gave me safe harbour. 

You made the screaming stop. 

But then you left me.

I believed in you. 

I trusted you. 

I rested on you.

I thought you loved me.

I know there's no going back. 

Once done, can't be undone. 

Our values don't line up. 

But it doesn't mean I don't miss you.

I was looking for a home for my heart. 

With you, I found not a home, 

but a temporary way station. 

A safe space to lay my head,

for a moment.

Not for a lifetime 

I know that my safe space isn't found in another person. 

I know that my happiness can not ever depend on someone else's actions. 

I know that I will survive without you. 

But for today, I will sit alone with the screaming in my head.

I will hold myself gently.

I will be my own safe space.

And I will love me in a way you never could.

Have Faith. Go Play

I believe in a higher power. Call it what you will. I call it God. I believe that higher power holds nothing but love for me. I believe my God sees me, knows me and wants nothing but good for me. 

This is faith. 

I believe that I don't need to be any different, do anything different to be worthy of this love. I believe I am enough, just as I am. 

I believe my higher power is actively caring for me. I believe I am divinely protected. I believe I am held safe. I believe nothing exists that can harm me.

I believe that everything always works out for me. I believe that my God has a master plan that I don't understand.  I believe that everything will be okay in the end. 

This is faith. 

I believe that there are no wrong choices. I believe that every experience has something valuable to teach me. I believe that the adventure is always worth it. 

This is faith.

I believe in a world of abundance. I believe that there is always enough. I believe in unending love. 

I believe that my higher power wants me to enjoy life. I believe that my purpose is to have fun. I believe that the world is my playground. 

This is faith. 

And so, if I have faith, then all that is left is for me to go play. 

Today I Decided to Live

Today I decided to live.  

I decided to love. 

To connect with people. 

To go on adventures. 

To laugh and play.

Today I decided that I want something more. 

Today I decided that I am worth it.  

Today I decided to live.  

And so I leapt.  

Into the unknown.

And when the screaming in my head says "What the hell have you done?" 

I will laugh and say "I have chosen to stay. Loudly. Without fear." 

I leapt. 

Now watch me soar. 

Falling

Drowning in despair, loss and grief. 

Overwhelmed with no way out. 

Creating a suicide plan. 

Isolated and alone.

Sobbing in the shower. 

Vomiting.

Curled up. Unmoving.

Not sleeping. 

Not eating. 

Not talking to anyone.

Staring at a jigsaw puzzle. 

Crying silent tears.

Calling out sick.

Hugging a sloth.

Wrapped in a favourite sweatshirt. 

Going to bed early. 

Falling into the darkness. 

Reaching out for help.

Trying to find light.

Trying to find a reason to go on.

Medication, therapy and connecting with people.

A friend dragged me along. 

Zumba, yoga and pole dancing.

I started to live again. 

A friend scooped me up.

Road trips, concerts and line dancing. 

I started to look to the future again.

Piercings and tattoos. Express yourself.

Shake your booty.  Move your body.

Pirate jokes. Kitchen dancing. 

Falling down laughing.

Join a book club.

Plan a cruise.

Play in the dirt. 

Plant some flowers.

Play the music loud.

Sing along.

Tell a joke. 

Laugh out loud.

Hug a friend.

Eat some pizza.

Paint a picture.

Buy garden gnomes. 

Falling in love with life.

Laughing, playing, singing and dancing.

Believing in magic and happily ever after. 

Connected with people who care for me.

Falling in love with me.