Subtle Differences

It amazes me, sometimes, how adjusting one thing can impact so many others. I used to modify my appearance constantly, just because. As I've grown older, I've noticed that I'm more and more reluctant to do that. It's like I found a comfortable, easy way to present myself and got lazy about experimenting. My makeup is usually the same - natural and minimal during the work week and when I'm out and about; non-existent when I'm at home, my clothes usually fall into the same pattern, I don't paint my nails anymore (except toenails in summer), and my hair has been some variation of mid-long and curly with minimal effort required. This week, I decided to embrace change again (for a change). I was bored with myself and figured I needed an update of sorts, so I cut off more than half my hair and got bangs...not a huge deal, and definitely not all that important in the grand scheme of things...however, I've noticed other subtle differences in relation to that: I feel a little fresher; younger, peppier and more lively again. I have been carrying myself differently, I've been taking more care to style my hair and being more thorough with my makeup. I am also more aware of what I am eating and more motivated to get back on track with physical activity (now, that may have something to do with spring approaching, too). And, it's been kind of fun and cool to see the response from my co-workers. At last count, no fewer than 8-10 people have said that they didn't recognize me or that they had to do a double-take because I look so different. A punt load of others have given me spontaneous, enthusiastic compliments and, dammit, it's good to hear nice things about yourself, especially when you've been going through a slump. Bottom line? There's absolutely nothing wrong with getting comfortable with yourself, knowing who you are and how you want to look, but sometimes the smallest tweak is all that is needed to make a huge difference in your perceptions and how others perceive you. Just to shake things up a bit and have others take notice of you in a new light can be so refreshing! Mind you, I'm already wondering how long it will be before I can make use of the old ponytail standby again... :)

Molasses Tea

When I was a little girl, my mother would insist that we visit our paternal grandparents at least once a month. For me, it was always stressful and torturous. I couldn't let it slide off my back like my brother seemed to be able to do. I felt physically ill at the prospect of having to go there and sit at the kitchen table and endure a half an hour of painfully forced conversation (Mom always ensured we didn't stay long) - or worse, migrate to the living room where pictures of my deceased father were hung on every wall and try to ignore the elephant in the room while avoiding making eye contact. I would often leave with a migraine or tension headache. Not a good way to remember spending time with your grandparents, hey? The first time I saw my grandfather smile was when he had great grand-children. The first time I remember him telling me he loved me I was in my 20's. And my grandmother sort of followed his lead, I guess. They were old school. They always dressed in more formal-type clothes and she waited on him and kind of stayed in the background and let him take the forefront. It wasn't until after he died that I started to see her personality emerge...he had a sort of stern and domineering way about him, I guess, that she let take centre stage.

Anyway, there are a couple of bright spots in there somewhere...I have a vague memory of Nan teaching me to iron, using facecloths as practice, Granda taught me how to tie a tie when I was older (looks and sounds funny, doesn't it?...tie a tie...), and I think I watched him paint the model boats he used to make in the basement a couple of times back in the day (all of us grandkids eventually received one in a display case).

The thing that got me today, though, unexpectedly, was the molasses. I decided to make baked beans today for some strange reason, to eat later in the week. When I took the container of molasses out of the cupboard and placed it on the counter next to the kettle, I was suddenly reminded of sitting with Granda and drinking molasses tea. Granda loved to tell stories about his younger days...I wish I had been relaxed enough to actually absorb and remember them all, but they did serve as a reprieve from the mournful, heavy, discussions about death and the reminders that I no longer had a "real" father (the man actually asked me when I was 16 if I wanted to be buried next to my father when I died. I understand now that he was trying to be practical and considerate since he felt his own time was drawing near and he needed to plan for his own cemetery plot, but at the time it was very disturbing for me).

Back to the molasses...one of the few things I do remember him talking about was how when he was younger there was a time when there was no sugar available so they had to use molasses to sweeten their tea. I was intrigued by this and he made me some to try. He seemed quite pleased that I liked it. It was one of the few moments of bonding I can actually say I remember having with him. The pleasantness of drinking molasses tea together at the table in a beam of sunlight coming in from the window and his happy smile because I liked it.

It actually makes me cry right now as I write this. I so wish things had been different...but I'm so glad that at least we had that moment and a couple of others like it. And so, today, I sat and drank a cup of molasses tea while beans were baking in the oven...in honour of my grandfather, who loved me and didn't know how to get past his own grief to show me in a way I could understand while he was here.

Does This Really Need a Title? It's the First Thing I've Written in Forever!

I miss you. I miss writing here. I miss writing, period. June 2015 seems like forever ago...well 8 months is kinda long, I guess. A year ago, today, I got engaged. Wow. I've now got almost 6 months of wedded bliss under my belt (I'm not being facetious or sarcastic here), I've honeymooned (it was AWESOME), I've finished one distance course (RELIEF!) and am trying my best to finish a second over the next few months (STRESS!), I'm now a first-time aunt (it ROCKS and I love that baby more than I ever thought possible), and we bought a house (WOOHOO! NO MORE RENTING)! Juggling all this while working (and with a hubby who is also working and going to school) has not been easy, at times, and I still have my moments when it all becomes just a little too much. I've had to give up any and all extra-curricular activities for the past while to create more time in my schedule. But I miss them. I miss singing and dancing and CREATING. It's tiresome to only have the scholastic and the mundane on my plate. And it's frustrating to be busy all. the. time. and not have enough time to organize things in my new home the way I'd like or take control of my fitness back (it's sorta gone out the window with so much on the go and I'm feeling so out of shape that I don't even recognize myself or feel at home in my own body half the time). And on top of that we are contemplating kids. It's tough. I always thought I would, then I wasn't so sure, and now it's a matter of I envision it in the future but can't wrap my head around the realities of creating it now...you know, that ideal of wanting to be financially secure and stuff before you have a child...and then there's the clock ticking in the background and weighting the decision with more stress and uncertainty and unknown factors.

So, yeah. Welcome to Adulting 101, I guess...the struggle to balance your life, be responsible, accomplish things, be successful, have fun, and be happy all at once. I miss the younger me who didn't have all of this on her shoulders and was able to just go to school and go out and let loose on the dance floor. The only dancing I seem to do now is in my kitchen/living room or at weddings. Mind you, I'd never want to go back there...that girl carried so many other burdens on her shoulders that it amazes me she was ever able to keep her head above water and keep from drowning in the endless anxiety, guilt, and self-loathing. Thank God I made it this far. I'm sure I'll figure the rest out as I go.

In the meantime, anyone have any insight on the world of parenting they'd like to share? What is it that makes it so tough and so rewarding? Would you do anything differently if you had the chance? What made you decide in the first place whether or not to have them and when to just go for it, if you did? Do you ever regret your choice? Is there anything you'd like to say to someone contemplating whether or not to become a parent (from either side of it...whether you have kids or don't have kids), any advice or wisdom to share...?

Blessings

Once again, it has been a while. I will not beat myself up for that. Life has been busy. It happens. And it has been busy for so many great reasons! I've been truly blessed these past months...I've been working fairly steadily, progressing in university distance education courses, continuing to absorb soulful literature and TV programming, writing in a gratitude journal almost daily, making a conscious effort to do things that bring me joy and to show up and be present in my own life. And all of those things mean that I feel much happier and less stressed in the average day. Oh, yeah, and I'm also GETTING MARRIED! Gasp! I know, right? When did this happen??? Well, fiancé and I had been talking about it for some time and looking at rings off and on for about a year when it finally hit me: this is not going to happen if we don't make it happen, and we are not getting any younger - what are we waiting for? So, I calmly told him at the end of January that I was going to decide on a ring by the end of the week and then it would be up to him. I found the one I wanted a few days later and we went together to put down the deposit and get the paperwork completed to have it sent off and re-sized. Sixteen days later, it came back and he proposed to me on the spur of the moment in a restaurant parking lot. I couldn't be happier. We are getting hitched in August and I've added the heap of wedding preparation to-do lists to my never-ending pile of to-do's. Busy, busy girl. We also decided to treat ourselves to a tropical honeymoon after the wedding. I think we each deserve it. I feel as if I am constantly being bathed in the warmth of a beam of sunlight when I close my eyes and count my blessings. Things aren't perfect, but this is definitely bliss :-) I've come a long way, baby, one step at a time...!

Side note: It's amazing to look back and see that THIS and THIS and THIS and THIS have led to THIS :) I guess it really is true what they say: When it's right you just know. Seriously. cannot. stop. smiling. :-D

Continuous Progress

Things are continuing to shift and move and make more sense. I have finished counselling for the time being as well as the set of hypnosis sessions I started and they have helped tremendously. I did some regression work and releasing during that time as well. I'm almost through The Gifts of Imperfection and have started on The Alchemist (my bedside stack of literature grew so much that I had to relocate it to the living room whilst it awaits my attention). I've not been able to keep up with the three minute daily mirror exercise (whereby a person stares at him/herself in the mirror for three minutes whilst simultaneously delivering and receiving positive self-talk), but I have been relatively consistent with my use of a nightly gratitude journal (in which I record at least five things that I am grateful for each day). In addition, I've recently started the new 21 day meditation program online with Oprah and Deepak Chopra (which I had previously never heard of until my hypnotist told me about it) and I went to see James van Praagh at the end of October (I had mixed observations and feelings about that one, but I'm glad I went for the experience nonetheless). I've been neglecting my nutrition, sleep, and exercise a little  a lot for the past couple of weeks, but I know it isn't forever and I'm getting better at accepting myself and silencing the litany of the damaging little voice in my brain. In fact, it's been a while since I last heard it say anything negative. I like it that way. It's OK if I don't have a productive day. It's OK if everything on my to do list isn't achieved within a given time frame (it never was, to be honest, but it always caused me grief before to see those items not crossed off at the end of the day). My stress level is way down and I am more consistently happy and content; not always - that's actually a disorder - but it is my normal state of being these days. Amazing. In fact, I had a conversation with Boyfriend last night (he is so emotionally and spiritually intelligent without even realizing it and has been a tremendous support for me) whereby he expressed to me that he has noticed a big difference in me...not that he has noticed all the things I have been doing to get here, but the end result so far. Yes, he has been aware of all my appointments and that I've been reading and watching TV shows and journalling, but it was the decision I made to not work for the past week and give myself a much-needed break that got his attention. He applauded me for knowing to do that for myself and for not panicking and stressing over the lack of income; he realizes it's not something I would have or could have done a year ago. He also commented on the disappearance of the lingering cloud of negativity over my head that was ever-present last fall and that I am no longer the ball of stress and anxiety I was then. I am definitely progressing steadily towards the person I want to be and (hopefully!) the life I want to lead.

Fighting Perfect

There's a growing stack of literature on my bedside table. It includes such works as The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle, The Seat of the Soul by Gary Zukav, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou, 10-10-10 by Suzy Welch, and the gem I am currently devouring: The Gifts of Imperfection by Dr. Brené Brown (I have yet to read the others).

This need for self-discovery, enlightenment, and improvement has been an ongoing thing for me. It started out as a realization in the 11th grade that I needed to overcome my fear of public speaking...then it morphed into a determination to develop relationships with my family, conquer my fear of singing in front of people and audition in front of someone, get myself on stage in a theatrical production, (re)build my confidence after a breakup, improve my ability to meet people and talk one-on-one...but my personal growth and development was a series of fits and starts instead of having an ever-flowing presence.

This time it's different. This time, I am looking at myself as a whole. What is it that I need to do for me in order to better myself as a person, become more relaxed and stable, increase my capacity for trust, love, and joy, and improve the quality of the rest of my life? The motivations that came sporadically and fleetingly before seem to have been triggered all at once following a few key moments of clarity when I had felt that someone's words or some realized truth spoke deeply to my consciousness and to my soul. This combination of catalysts led me to counselling. It led me to Super Soul Sunday and Master Class on OWN. It led me to deep conversations with friends who understand. It led me to The Loss That is Forever. It led me to the other books I have mentioned (and has been leading me to add more to my list of things to read/look into besides). And more recently it led me to try hypnosis (which sort of came out of the blue as a suggestion and which I am hopeful will contribute greatly to this process I am undertaking).

Alas, I digress...

Through all of my exploring, I am coming to change or modify my thought patterns and beliefs. I am also coming to understand that what I have been experiencing is very complex and interconnected stuff and that I am not alone in quite a few facets of my experience. Today's focus is on perfectionism. I have a long memory of being labelled a perfectionist (mostly by my mother). I just sort of accepted that it is a part of who I am and kind of wore it like a badge of honour. It meant that I was giving my all to everything that mattered to me; that I was beyond reproach or judgment in how I portrayed myself. But what it actually did was impede my happiness, bury me in a mountain of stress, frustration, self-criticism, guilt, inadequacy, anxiety and fear, and paralyze my life in countless ways. I heard the words, "there's no such thing as perfect" or "that's good enough" and I didn't accept them to be true as they apply to me. I MUST be perfect. I MUST NOT make mistakes. There is an enormous amount of pressure that comes with those beliefs. And it isn't as though I ever thought I was perfect. I didn't. I was never good enough for myself in any way, shape, or form. I fought my way through aspects of this thought pattern off and on throughout the years, but I never tackled the issue as a whole. I don't think I ever got the fact that it was a huge festering sore in my mind and in my heart. I was consumed with depleting myself for others, trying to be everything for everyone and meet their every need; so afraid of disappointing or hurting anyone, so afraid of losing the shreds of self-worth that were dependent on meeting my own unrealized unrealistic expectations of myself or having to deal with not being liked or accepted because of an inability to do all those things.  I repeatedly ran myself down to empty for my job, my friends, my family, my partners. I let the energy vampires suck me dry. Never did I stop to take care of me. I mean, I sort of convinced myself that I did - I took care of the things on the surface whenever I could snatch a moment that wasn't already spoken for at someone else's bidding (whether real or perceived by my mind's preoccupation with their problems, expectations, and well-being), but I never got to really recharge and replenish myself. Maybe I didn't even know how or that I deserved that.

Realization and making sense of it all in my own mind is key to raising my awareness of how I treat myself. I would NEVER treat a friend that way and if a friend treated ME they way I treat MYSELF, I'm sure we wouldn't be friends for long. What's important going forward is what am I going to do about it? Well, I'm going to keep educating myself and discovering myself. I'm going to continue to "do the work" and have the tough conversations that my soul needs in order to heal. I'm going to learn (finally) to love myself fully and give myself time and permission to figure out what it is that I need and make MY well-being a priority. I am going to battle perfectionism, depression, and anxiety (and anything else that crops up or gets uncovered). I am going to learn to create real and true boundaries. I am going to learn to separate myself and my worth from my ability to please, perform, and perfect. I am going to cultivate positive thoughts and beliefs to help free myself from the chains of negativity and the pain of beating up on myself on a daily basis. I am once again going to create courage inside myself to find, be, and accept me.

Self-love and the Uphill Battle

- photo of an excerpt from The Loss That is Forever by Maxine Harris (p. 305)

Roller coasters have nothing on this ride I've been on. I feel as though my body has been in a wreck; it has been forced to process so many intense emotions on an almost daily basis, not the least of which are stress, anxiety, and depression. I am searching, reaching, hoping, trying to pull myself through. I am hungrily gobbling up any self-help I can find and praying to discover the root of all of this; to learn how to love myself - really love myself, not just masquerade it when I'm feeling fine - and come out the other side a better, healed, and whole person. I am finally "doing the work" and knowing I cannot undo a lifetime of hurt overnight or find all the answers and fill the void in a day. Patience is hard, but it is time - the universe has pointedly thrust me into all sorts of situations that tell me this is so. These have not been isolate incidents. There is a definite pattern here. I must face my loss. I must make sense of this. Work and career woes and indecisions take a definite backseat to this burden I have been carrying since childhood - the loss of a father I was never allowed to grieve and can no longer convince myself had no lasting impact on me and did not effect every aspect of my being and becoming. Thank God I can finally see that there are others who love me more than I love myself. Thank God they have led me to open my eyes. Thank God I already love me enough to fight for the quality of the rest of my life, one step at a time.