Second Time Around


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My daughter is moving out this weekend.  When she moved out a couple of years ago, there was degree on tension between us.  Neither of us were in a really solid frame of mind.

I was reacquainting myself with my sexuality which had remained dormant for close to thirty years. I was grappling with a host of emotions that were racing to the surface now that the dam had burst.

In all fairness, I can certainly appreciate my daughter’s confusion in the change that was occurring in me at that time.  Hell,  I didn’t understand what was going on with me.

She had her own issues that she was struggling with.  Still, we’ve always valued our relationship beyond all else and in our typical fashion we dealt with the issues as they arose and worked out our differences.

This has been an emotional week for me.  In an odd way I feel like I’ve come full circle yet I have been elevated.  I’m raising the bar on this thing called life and what I want to gain from the notion of living.

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Last night I was running with my group and we did the same route from a year ago.  The last run before everyone does the BMO 1/2 or full Marathon this weekend.

It was a beautiful spring day yesterday just as it was a year ago.

I sustained an injury in my calf muscle on the final run with my group last year right before the race.

This year I will be at the finish line handing out medals.  I’m looking forward to it.

As I was driving home I thought about when we first moved out to New Westminster four years ago.  Seemed to be a bit of ghost town at the time but in the last few years a renaissance has been taking place and I’ve really fallen in love with the place.  It is a friendly river community that likely has the smallest Santa Clause Parade ever (4 blocks in length).

New Westminster celebrates everything which I love!

And where else can you walk into a restaurant to find everyone playing a ukulele?

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When I got home my daughter had just arrived and on the spur of the moment I asked her if she’d like to go to dinner at the first restaurant we went to upon moving here. It was the Heritage Grill down on Columbia Street.

The Heritage is known for its live music.  They’ve now thrown in musical clubs such as the Uke Club.

We walked in and were serenaded with the likes of ‘King of the Road’, ‘Harvest Moon’, ‘Your Cheatin’ Heart’, ‘Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?’ just to name a few.

A woman named Danielle got up and sang a beautiful song in French. I tell ya, you haven’t lived until you’ve watched every patron of a restaurant excluding yourself play the ukulele!

After dinner we walked along the river for a while then made our way home.

It is a very different mood now as my daughter heads out on her own once more.  Eleven months have passed since she moved back in and occupied the futon that I’d set up after she moved out the first time.

The three words that I uttered almost a year ago were from the patio of the Heritage Grill as well.

“I’ve got Cancer.”

That evening she told me she was moving back in, that she’d take care of me.

At the beginning of this life chapter I was hesitant, I didn’t want to impose.  I am forever grateful for her love, care and support.

Now we are both ready to carry on with our lives.  I will be setting up a publishing company and will redo the room over the next few weeks.  Along with this I’ll be finishing up the last few legal issues then launch my book in June 2014.

I’m excited about this vision that I have.

My daughter has a host of creative endeavours she will be pursuing along with taking classes in September to build upon her education and further develop her skill set.

And yes, she is very excited as well.

The second time around we both have a vision for our respective futures.  And make no mistake, we’ll see each other often enough.

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Leo looking for his comfort zone on a Sunday morning!

But I will miss her and all her goofy little antics.  Her sleepy ‘Good Mornings’ and the air kiss ‘Goodnights’.  I’ll miss her and the cat curled up on my lap at night while we watch a bit of TV.  I’ll miss her funny faces.

We are moving forward.  Memories are the fabric of our life in many ways and we have so many more to write into history.

The future never looked brighter.

 

 

 

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Would I Do It Again?


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I’ve asked myself this question in relation to many facets of my life. And I’ve asked it several times in the last few years. If I had the chance to do it all again, would I?

Of course, you can’t go back.  Perhaps the big lesson in life is just that.

We are all test subjects being fed various forms of stimuli to see how we respond.  How’s that for enlightenment?

Still, it is curious to me how some of us go through the most horrendous of life events imaginable and turn out to be the most loving and empathetic of beings.  Then there are those that seemingly have been born into a charmed life that turn out to be the most acerbic and selfish of the lot.

I could never say my life has been horrible.  I’ve certainly had my share of shit.  At the end of the day though each day is what you choose to do with it.  I’m sure at some point in my life I didn’t realize I had this decision to make.   I eventually figured it out.

I don’t really like designating a condition such as ‘victim’ or ‘survivor’ to my state of being.  We tend to put labels on everything by way of explanation I suppose.  Easy to categorize our state of mind.

Depressive, manic, bi-polar, anxiety, psychotic…

I can assure you there is a drug for that.

In all honesty, though there is no quick fix.  There never has been.  Knowing why you are the way you are is one thing.  Changing it is quite another.

Taking medication may be necessary should you in fact have a chemical imbalance.  Still, there is so little known about all of this.  Stress is one the big unknowns and God knows, we seem to add to our stressful lives on a daily basis.

I had a gift certificate for a manicure and pedicure that I cashed in on tonight.  I sat in Lazy-Boy chair allowing the woman to work her magic.  She did.

Two women next me sat having an animated conversation about their relationships.

One insisted that men were dumb.  All you had to do was show them a little love and attention and they would do your bidding.  It was just that simple.  As the conversation progressed, however, the issues being discussed ran rather deep.

After 15 years of marriage, should you have the insecurities that this one woman was feeling?  My guess is no, you should not.  As she discussed with her friend the issues…

“He’s always tired…I don’t want to get my hopes up…I’ll only be disappointed”

When he did something nice for her she would counter “What did you do with my husband…”

There was a communication failure somewhere.  He was concerned that she was going to take off to Hawaii without him (in other words, leave him)…he had purchased a ring and wanted to renew their vows which, and at the time, she found silly.  He made her a Valentine card by hand this year.

I finally weighed in.

She was missing some major cues that he was sending out.  In her fear of coming across needy and sounding like a nag she did nothing.

I made a few suggestions.

– Buy a frame and put the Valentine he made for her in it.

– Make up cards with things they would both like.  It would be a joint venture.  Once a week flip a coin and whom ever wins, draw a card and do that for the other.

– Sit naked opposite each other and ask the other person to perform a desirable act on your person.

I had their attention. She looked at me and asked if I felt valued. I smiled. She didn’t ask if I was in a relationship.  I told her flat out. yes, I feel valued and it starts with the face in the mirror.  Being happy is no one’s responsibility but your own.  Why should I even consider that is up to someone else.

She also felt some resentment at having to initiate the desire to have more ‘attention’ from her husband.

I’ve never been married but I do know for every successful relationship it needs to be nurtured. One young woman providing the treatment offered up that once children come into the picture they take center stage.

There is a certain immaturity in this thinking.  Yes, children require attention but guess what?  So does the relationship you have with the father of those children.  And if there is one thing I have come to learn it is this.  Take care of yourself first and foremost.

If I could change a few things that would definitely be up there.  I would be much kinder to this woman known as Nancy.

I am in downtown New Westminster on a Friday night having satisfied my appetite.  I am tucking back a few beer with a million things running through my head.

Change in the air.

I’m tire of the corporate grind.  Tired of being be a whipping post for my bosses’ bad hair days.  I’m tired of wondering why I put up with their bullshit.  Tired of being treated like I am a complete incompetent because they can’t recall the answer I gave the previous month for the same question.

Yet, I smile through gritted teeth.  It’s a job. It pays the bills.  It could be worse.  But, fuck, it should be a hell of a lot better, dammit.

Why I need to do so many spreadsheets forecasting this ominous future for the business that are never to their satisfaction is beyond me. I’m handed a green pencil crayon and asked to check off the red scribbles that are barely legible to ensure that I’ve done what I’ve been told.

Patience.

For five years I’ve put up with this.  Time to move on.  I have plans.  I have dreams.

Never in the five years I’ve been with this firm have I had the opportunity to do the job I was hired to do.  It is just that simple.

I’m not going to sit and judge them.  For the most part, both are good men. They’ve worked hard.  I get it. Yet, when I am spoken to as if I am an misguided and obstinate youth who knows nothing….you won’t get much productivity out of me.

I’ve battled this.  Gone in with complete loathing at what awaits me.  It’s the challenge you see.

Just try and knock me down. I dare you.”


 The thing of it is I know why I respond this way. It’s a throw back to being in an abusive home. As much as I am trying to break this cycle it keeps appearing in subtle forms.  A part of me feels if I leave, they’ll have won.

Then I remind myself this is not a competition. This is my life.  If I’m not happy, move on. I see others who operate in a similar position and they seem to be able to carry the authority that doesn’t quite rise to the level I want it to.

As stated, change is in the air.

I love working. I love the challenge to puzzle out an issue. Very few have ever taken advantage of this ability of mine.  Very few have ever seem my genius. Those that have, I still look after. Most just try to control me. Can’t be done.

In this mode of reflection I will say I would have to do it all again, verbatim…

If I didn’t…I wouldn’t be who I am today.

Now you could argue that perhaps I would be better.  That perhaps I would have progressed to a point I was far beyond where I am at this point in time.  Burt Goldman wants you to believe you can jump into any number of multiple universes to see what your doppelganger is doing and learn from it bringing it back to this reality.

At eighty years of age he made himself a shit load of money.

Out of curiosity a few years back I tried his online progam. I haven’t a clue what I am doing in other universes, as I decided to just concentrate on the one I currently reside in. Any lessons should be learned in the tried an true method to me.

Should I steal the remedy of what I’ve done in a previous universe into this life will I actually appreciate the  journey?

Always these programs focus on the riches (i.e. wealth, money, fame) that can be attained. Material wealth is really not that important to me.  Spiritual wealth…now that would something.

So I’ll continue on for the greater good.  And funny thing is that it changes everyday along with the rest of me.

Time to take a deep breath and move on.

Peace.

Just Checking In: Where Does Love Go?


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I’ve seen it happen time and again as well as experiencing it first hand.

A beautiful union takes place then blossoms and love erupts.  For reasons that are at times obvious, but more often than not, confounding, one person finds that the love has faded and they walk away from the relationship.  In some cases, they run.

I am of the mind if you are fortunate to find love then fight to keep it.  Exhaust all options before letting it go.  Hmmm!  Perhaps that’s why I’m still single.

I say this in jest, however, I was at times a little…let’s see how shall I put this….frightening?

When I was younger, relationships were a complete mystery to me.  I had no idea how to play the game per sae.  Still, in those moments when love appeared between the thorns, I was insatiable in my desire to consume it.

The men in my life typically broke it off,  though I walked away on a few occasions as well. Finding myself in deep and feeling incredibly vulnerable scared the hell out of me at the time.  Also, I could not handle confrontation or conflict at all.

Key components in any relationship.

Taming my emotions can be a tough thing for me.  Once triggered what erupts verbally is anyone’s guess.  The tongue becomes a tangled mess resulting in genuine babble.  The thing is I know what’s triggering me and yet I cannot prevent the spillage from occurring.

Fortunately this doesn’t happen very often anymore.

Love has become quite the market though with shows like The Bachelor or The Bachelorette.  Movies depict people going through a painful breakup and they are immediately inundated by family and friends to find someone new.

It almost seems that you’re something of a pariah if you are not actively seeking a relationship should you be unfortunate enough to be single.

We are all expected to live happily ever after.

I’ve seen relationships where I wondered if any love ever existed from the outset as the couple have such a hate on for each other.  Somewhere the thing derailed and became incredibly toxic.  Why couples stay in it to this point makes little sense though money and material assets seems to be a key factor.

Then there are the relationships where so much love still exists.  Those are the ones that are so hard to see die out. It’s in the eyes, the want, the need.  Yet a wall has gone up that the couple just can’t get past.

So where does that love go?  I know that I can look back some thirty odd years and wish I’d done things differently.  The love that I had for a particular man still exists to this day.  I have reconciled it, however, there is no going back.  Should I be fortunate enough to find love again then I will bring it all forward.

Memories are the cornerstones of our lives.  They are uniquely ours and cannot be taken away.  They direct and influence us in many ways as well.  Good and bad.

Love drives us all. We all want it.  We all need it. I suppose today it seems to be a commodity of sorts.  Perhaps we should learn to value this emotion a little more, nurture it and truly feel it.

And one can only hope that love will find it’s way back again.Autumn 2013 109

Enjoy your day and thanks for stopping by.

Peace.

 

 

 

Just Checking In: What’s Love Got to Do With It?


The title of this series is ‘Just Checking In’.  I will be examining certain areas of personal growth that I’ve been working on where blockages still exist in an effort to finally move past them. Your comments and ideas are always welcome.

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We all want this in our lives.  We desire this and from an early age we are geared toward the goal of finding love.  It is without question the one emotion that over the span of time, throughout all ages and regardless of culture renders and defines us as human.

From the earliest forms of the written word and likely beyond songs and scripture are dedicated to finding and losing the love of your life.

Broken hearts have poured out their souls of their loss, just as those having been bitten by love and are drunk with it, espouse its beauty.

Present day love is a very marketable emotion.  Valentines Day looms ever closer and if you don’t get your loved one something on this day then surely, the relationship is doomed.  Having been single for the better part of an eon, personally this day is simply one of many. Still, it is an interesting and a curious notion that this day has been marked on our calendars to honour love, should we be so fortunate to have found it.

Of course, I have love in my life…just not THAT kind of love.

Have I been in love?  Oh yes, and well I remember surrendering to it.  Still, I never gave in to it completely, though I did not know this at the time.

Where does love start?  How do we learn of its nature? Are we born with it or does it need to be nurtured?

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It begins with the relationship that considerable studies aside, is deemed to be of the utmost importance in our development.  So important that it will likely set the stage and affect your intimate relations throughout the course of your lifetime.

I am speaking of the relationship we have with our parents.  The influence this has on us is paramount in many cases to our success in relations as we mature.

What happens though, when this relationship is not the safe and trusting space required for a child to build upon?

Sigmund Freud tore into human sexuality and love in a big way back in the 1800’s.  I am not certain if he was the first to look at love in a scientific manner.  Likely not, though he did and still does have an enormous impact on how we view these two elements.

I’ve read books and essays over the years by many in this field trying to understand just where my development, or lack thereof, placed me on this hierarchy.
From my own experience of growing up in an abusive home, I do believe that love is something we are born with.  I think it is embedded in our DNA along with a host of other memories and emotions, good and bad.  How we respond to our environment and what dominates our psyche varies for all of us, though there are generalities that can be markers in terms of stunted personal growth regarding our sexuality and how we view ourselves.

Despite my father’s abuses and rejection, I began at an early age trying to do things that he would find favorable in order to garner his praise.  His behaviour was directed at our entire family and not just myself.  It is how we react to certain occurrences individually that influence our choices later in life.

This pattern of seeking praise would develop into a heart-breaking scenario for me.  I would try in vain to become the woman I thought my love interest wanted.  There was no regard for self as I never really developed that sense nor was it nurtured.

Over the years I have been able to earmark when and where various portions of my emotional growth and well-being became stunted or stopped entirely.  Quite often when a trauma break occurs, if it is not remedied, then it will play itself out repeatedly in various forms.

Even in the workplace the desire to do a fabulous job and be praised for it has often come into play.  So that singular behaviour pattern that developed in my youth has had an incredibly negative impact on many facets of my life.  It impacted friendships at an early age as well.

For example, in high school I wanted desperately to be accepted so I started to smoke.  Not a good habit and detrimental to good health.  When I met other girls who I found really cool I would parrot certain behaviours wanting to be like my counterparts.  And I suspect that we all do this to some degree and that is simply an aspect of growing up on many levels.

For me, however, this behavioural pattern became exaggerated in my early 20’s and would manifest itself in at times, very dangerous actions on my part.

At the age of 28 I decided to walk away from love entirely.  I shut down my sexual self completely deciding that it was just not to be and I threw away the key.  I focused on motherhood, friendships and career exclusively for the next 25 years.  Along the way though, I began to seek out assistance and therapy as memories began to emerge.  Painful and devastating their impact was at times brutal.  Through this though, a woman with very tender sensibilities and a heart so full to bursting evolved and grew.

Today as ready as I feel am to enter into a loving relationship, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve left it too late and what should I expect. What I’ve come to realize as well, is that many people, despite having rough beginnings, go on to find deeply satisfying relationships.

There are those too, who have fabulous beginnings and yet they find themselves in a relationship that ends in heart-break.

Once cut, the scars for many of us are hard to heal.  While some of us learn from these experiences, there are those of us that repeat this pattern letting the scars build at times to the point where we don’t want to feel anything anymore.

What I do know as I close this first chapter of this series, is that I love the woman I’ve become and who continues to evolve.  And that’s where it starts really.

The last ten years of my father’s life, I really had no contact with him.  I was with him when he died though. I felt it was necessary let him know that I had forgiven him.

Forgiveness is necessary.  It is a balm that will soothe the battle scars surrounding the heart.

And sitting beside him as his life was drawing to a close, I told him that I’d forgiven him.  That I needed to do this so that I could move on.  Tears fell that day and an apology was offered and accepted.  I held his hand and he uttered those words that so rarely I had heard in my lifetime.  ‘I love you, girl.’

It didn’t make me feel wonderful, it didn’t even make me feel good.  In fact, it simply made me feel sad.  He’d never gotten to know me or is granddaughter.  He’d never really gotten to know any of his children.  Not really.  In truth, I never really knew the man either.

There was a time when wanting to talk to my dad about anything of a personal nature illicited such fear that I would at times begin to shake uncontrollably.   Too often that voice of mine, when it tried so desperately to be heard, was shot down by this man with contempt and ridicule.  The message quite simply was I didn’t matter.

His death left many questions that will never be answered and I can’t dwell on them.  I can only move on and continue to grown and accept the love that I know is there and am deserving of.

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What I need to work on is verbalizing my emotions.  I can write them down.  I’ve become accustomed to it and actually really good at it.  But to have someone standing before me, where I want to express myself, the words that roll off the tongue are often pitiful.  There is still that fear that I will be ridiculed for feeling what I do.  And that is one of the blockages that still exists.

Dealing with things on a daily basis has no script and so all I can do is push through.  I’ve done some excellent workshops to assist with this process and will continue to work at this.

Thanks for stopping by and enjoy your day.

 

 

 

 

Alone (Personal fears of a Cancer Patient)


Since this whole cancer thing started I have not had sex.  I am a single woman in my mid-fifties.  In just the last few years I had awakened to and began to feel comfortable in my sexuality.

I had been told not to have any sexual activity for 6-8 weeks after surgery.  Understandable.  All of my reproductive organs had been removed.  During that time I would lay in bed and wonder if I would still be sexually responsive after all of this had passed.

Approximately three months after surgery, I engaged in the natural release of masturbation.  There was a desperate need to know if I could still experience orgasm.

I can.

Some form of relief occurred.  This body of mine was undergoing a cruel assault and I could only try to ease this by caring for myself.  My mid-section was swollen for a time but I went for walks daily and continued a regiment of daily pep talks designed to stay in touch with my feminine self.

Then chemotherapy hit.  I came through it exceptionally well.  The feet are just slightly numb now at the base of the toes.  My hair is sprouting. It will be some time, however, before I have anything of substance up there.  And of course, I packed on about 20 lbs.  in my mid-section.

I am back in the gym and beginning to run again.  I have had awesome support from family and friends throughout this ordeal.

Yet last night as I finished up and made my way home I was very much alone.  The idea of having a relationship still seems so foreign and out of reach.  Even more so now as I washed up for bed and looked in the mirror the question teased me.

Am I desirable?

When the whole cancer thing consumed me, my choice was to put the quest of meeting someone on hold, not that I would have actually had the time to continue on in this vein.

These days I just want to feel and look ‘normal’ again.  Hell, I was just getting re-acquainted with my sexual self and bam!

“You’ve got cancer.”

I had been grappling with my inability to move to the next level of having a loving relationship with a man.  I was told to put it out to the universe.  I did….I think.  I was finding it far easier to talk to men and open up them.  Still, I think I was likely too open at times.

I have never really known how to flirt or how much information to offer up to someone I find attractive.  Furthermore, if there was interest returned, I just don’t seem to know how to respond in a manner that is inviting?  I have been told I respond too intensely.

Not quite sure how to temper that.

In any case, there I was last night trying so fucking hard to convince myself that I’m still so very feminine and that I am desirable.

It’s a lie.  I don’t feel this way at all.  In fact, I feel asexual.

Who wants to touch this?

I left the bathroom and came and sat on my sofa, curling up in a blanket, I surfed the channels on TV.  There are some really weird shows on television at 1:30 AM.

I got to thinking about why I go to public establishments to write.  It struck me then I go there to purge my fears of aloneness.  To write some of what I am feeling or thinking  in the isolation of my own home would somehow be suffocating.

Oddly enough to confess in a public space all my fears of being alone makes it somehow bearable, though no one is listening. There are living, breathing people around me though and this offers up some form of consolation.

Here at home, it’s just me.

I slipped into bed and closed my eyes thinking for the millionth plus time how good it would be to have someone to curl up to at night.  To have someone who could reassure that I’m woman, that I’m desirable, that I’m sensual…

I say this to the mirror each day wanting so desperately to believe it, yet sometimes this just seems to compound my aloneness.

Friends tell me the man who nabs me will be so very fortunate.  I’m still waiting to be nabbed.

I guess there are times when I feel that all the ground I’ve gained in this regard has just been removed and I am back at square one.

I don’t really discuss the fears that I have around the whole cancer thing and what it’s doing to me.  I really think my emotions would be far too intense, so I do what I have always done.  I fight the war with these fears alone.

I reach for the pen to help me alleviate these fears and to expel them onto the page.  And as this evening winds down it is an all too familiar one.

And at times likes this, it feels like it’s crushing me.

If there is one thing I have come to know,  I must give voice to these fears of mine in order to reconcile them.

I had a long conversation on the phone with a close friend last night.  She asked me why I didn’t take the time of work to focus on my recovery.  I have disability benefits that would have covered me during this time.  I simple told her it’s not in my nature.

Truth be told, I didn’t want to spend this time feeling even more isolated from the world around me than I already do.  I needed to keep my frenetic balance of normal moving.  I need to feel that somehow I belong to this world.

The thing about dealing with cancer, at least for this woman, has been the constant reminder of my own mortality and the threat, real or imagined, to take this life of mine from me.

For the most part I have weathered the storm fairly well.  So I will go for a run now and enjoy the freedom it instills and focus on my hopes and lay my fears to rest.

Peace.

A Tragic Ending?


I had an active weekend.  I have been squeezing several social functions in prior to beginning chemo as I’m not certain at this point how I will feel during the process. There are so many people I really want to see and get caught up with and so I have had social engagements which began on Friday after work and carried right through to Sunday afternoon.

Next weekend will be much the same.  And I am quite enjoying all of this.

I also went on the hunt for the perfect wig and I may just have found it and managed to get a Yoga session in as well and it felt fabulous.

My energy levels are increasing daily.  Two minor scars on either side of my belly button exist and will likely fade over time.

Yesterday I met with a couple of women I went to school with and we enjoyed a long afternoon lunch catching up with each other.  A photo of a woman that we went to school with has appeared on Facebook.  She is currently missing as of July 22, 2013. Julie relayed a few details that she knew regarding her disappearance.

Kathleen had been married last year for just five weeks when her husband apparently hung himself.  The fear is she never recovered from the shock and that now a year later she may well have gone down that path as well.

I truly hope not.

I know what it’s like to be locked in dark despair.  I know from personal experience how if feels to be in constant pain.  Not the type of pain from an injury either.  No, it is the pain of a wounded soul.  It is a heart that is so completely shattered. It feels as if everything that you ever were is just bleeding out of you until there is nothing.  Just and empty darkness, a void where you feel absolute nothing but a relentless agony that begs to be silenced.

Fortunately for me the times I made the attempt to end it all, and there were a few, I managed to hit the ‘off’ switch.  And yes, I remember well the emotional pain that pushed me to the edge.  And so I can only pray that Kathleen has somehow managed to hit the ‘off’ switch as well and has not succumbed to a tragic end.

I found my way out of there.  I discovered a beauty in forgiveness that was such a gentle balm. I let it in, allowing it to ease me from a parched wasteland into a vibrant and lush energy that began to fill and consume me.  Then I began to heal.  With each new day a love of this world that I inhabit increases.  Hope rains down in abundance infusing me with a love so deep.

If Kathleen is out there I send her all my love and prayers that she will find her way from this unconscionable pain that has consumed her.

In the book that I am preparing for publication, I do talk of these things.  One of the reasons why I wrote the book was to perhaps reach out to those who find themselves in such a quandary.  Knowing that you are not alone in how you feel can help you to reconnect because I know I felt so detached and isolated.

How do you tell someone you hurt all the time and you don’t know why?  The frightening memories that I had suppressed from my conscious self resided in the dark recesses of the soul fighting to get out.  The more I pushed them down the further I began sink as well.

Reconciling the past and then leaving it where it belongs can be a difficult thing.  I read not too long ago that you can not appreciate the light without being in the darkness.  You cannot appreciate being happy without knowing sadness.  It is true.

Today I feel a sadness for a woman I have not seen likely in forty years.  What I have learned recently though is how our energy touches each other and helps to shape each of us.  I would not be the person I am today without the experiences I gone through.

And I love the person I am becoming. Yes, I am still stumbling along but you know I’ve seen the core of who I am.  I’ve had that moment when, in all my vulnerability, I have seen the simply beauty of my spirit.

No, I am not there all the time.  In fact, it’s really tough to get there, to be in that state of being that knows no want, no need…where the soul is content to just be. Always the challenge of this world and the energy and stimuli that surrounds us all impacts me, but just knowing what resides in my person will always be enough to keep me pushing forward and shedding this ego that still haunts me.

To all of those souls that are hurting, I pray that you will know the simple beauty of watching the sun rise or watching the rain; that you will know the power of forgiveness and the pure energy of love.  Be open to it and it will come.

And to Kathleen…please be well.

Namaste.

 

 

Connections


I met up with my cousin and his wife yesterday for lunch.  They currently reside in Bermuda and are in town for a few weeks having just become grandparents.  Mike and I have not had much in way of contact since our teenage years.  A lot can happen in 40 years and you know,  many things can stay the same.

Upon greeting each other I felt the same camaraderie I always have.  That had not changed.  We are both the same age and come from a family that certainly had its challenges, and I am being extremely polite with this analogy. When my portion of the family disintegrated there was a general breakdown on every front.  Faces and places we once went no longer seemed available.

At that time I didn’t understand the deep fractures that existed in my family.  That was my ‘normal’.  It was all I knew.  But then, when you are being pushed to the edge of reason and then beyond it is hard to see the world around you with any balance to it.  And there are those paths that open up before us and god knows I’ve made some really poor choices over the years.  What I will say is that I learned from them took the good from it, and moved on.

What I have come to know and fully accept is that nobody owes me anything nor I them.  We are answerable and accountable to the face in the mirror.  We make the choice of who we are to become.  Of course this journey is influenced by all those that touch our lives.

So getting together with Mike yesterday felt much like it did when we were younger.  Just this time the path each of us took from the last time we saw each other went in various directions.  Still there we were, a welcome comfort from an old friend. I saw my first James Bond movie with him.  (We discussed which one it was and I am now thinking that it was Goldfinger)  We left the theatre that evening both in spy mode and became convinced on the long walk back to our grandmother’s house that we were being pursued.  With ‘James Bond’ like maneuvers we ran diversions through the streets of Gibsons until we ‘lost them’.

Bursting into the house breathless we reported this event to our parentals who simply shook their heads exasperated and somewhat annoyed.  Gotta love the imagination of children.

We had sleep-overs, we scaled trees, ravines and crawled up onto Gospel Rock in Gibsons and talked about anything and everything.  Both of us shy and awkward in our youth we have both blossomed quite nicely now.

Later I considered this re-connection and realized that having shared a bond in our formative years we have always been connected.  That cannot be taken away. We found a comfort in each others company as children.  We witnessed things that children should never have to.  Regardless of this both of us moved on and became successful on our life path.

My relationship with him growing up gave me a sense of self.  I could relax and just be.  When your home life is built upon fear and the daily threat of it consuming you having those moments when I could exhale fed a gentle heart.

I saw a bit of myself in him at that time.  There was a need, that search for solace and acceptance that we both found in each others company.

I enjoyed meeting his wife.  Again, there was an immediate comfort and familiarity with the woman.  Here we are at 55 years of age.  We made it through.  May the friendship we enjoyed as children continue.

Mike and Gisele, it was an absolute pleasure connecting with you yesterday.  May it remain as such.  Blessings to you both.

 

 

Revealed (The world of online Dating)


I spoke with my friend last night that I had suddenly felt so rejected by, and sure enough it turns out she was sick and didn’t really feel like talking.  I told her about my little insecurities to which she laughed, albeit through a rather choked cough.  I like to air these things as it feels good to get it out.  I think I said something along the lines of, “Awe honey, I am so sorry you are feeling like crap, and here I thought you had developed a deep dislike for me.”  Talk about your neurosis shining through.  But then, she does know me relatively well and accepts me for all my little nuances and foibles, just as I do her.  We are not perfect and never will be.

I had by and large gotten over the whole thing anyway as I know this is a weird little thing that I put myself through.  In an earlier post I spoke of how I torment myself if I feel that I’ve offended someone.  I tell them I am sorry and they are looking at me like I am loopy (which I am) and they have no idea that I think I have offended them.  Again just one of those wonderful little throwbacks from days gone by.

I have been attempting to meet someone via the online dating world.  I know people who have had great success with this medium, so I will hang in there for a while and see what may come of it.  I must tell though that this is a very strange animal to me.  It surprises me what people will say about themselves and what they will in fact write to you.  I have had guys who are very much attached, and by this I mean married, that think I would be interested in exploring certain things with them.  I have had guys who don’t tell me up front that they are attached, and no, I have not met with them as it seems their schedule is usually very narrow, which is a dead give away.

I get the feeling that they are fishing to see if there is something ‘better’ out there.  I advised one man that perhaps if he put the effort into his current relationship that he was spending in looking for something else, he might well discover that he’s got a pretty good thing going on.  Then I pressed delete.

Another guy that was amazingly adamant that we would be a great match.  I politely pointed out that a relationship cannot be founded on deceit, and if you are in a relationship and are slipping around then what does that tell me about you?  That’s when I press ‘block’.

There are the ones who say they have gotten rid of all their ‘baggage’ and expect the same.  They don’t want ‘drama.’  What does that mean exactly?  When I hear this, I know they still have baggage of the emotional variety because they are making these statements to begin with in an attempt to not have their past rear it’s head.  At least that’s my interpretation.

I have had some very sweet people write books about themselves…and while they come off very sincere, I almost feel like they are giving me too much information.  And I know that a picture can be deceiving.  Perhaps they don’t photograph well.  I certainly don’t think I do so I do take that into consideration.  Still when someone writes me a book telling me why they believe we were ‘meant to be’, I tend to shy away.  That is a bit too intense and almost demanding to me.  From a paragraph and a photo you can garner that much information?  Hmmm.

I have met for coffee with a few men, but there was no ‘click’ shall we say.  And I know I must get a little better with questions prior to meeting someone. So it is definitely an interesting process.  It has been interesting to discover as well the things that totally turn me off about a persons profile.  There are those who write very little about themselves and feel the photo should speak for itself.  There are people who really don’t mind there spelling or grammar, which I suppose the very fact that I do write, irritates the hell out of me.  There are people who come across as being perpetual thrill seekers.  They have photos diving out of planes, screaming down a mountain slope, running over hot coals….you know?

I almost feel that this would be a competition of sorts to gain their attention, so once again I move away from those profiles.  Then there are the profiles that seem to have a list of conditions that you must meet in order for them to even consider talking to you.   So it is strange to me that dating has almost become an interview process of sorts.  I try to be very polite.  I get that we are in some odd fashion all seeking a connection of sorts.

Still, the one thing that really gets the hairs on the back of neck to stand on end and want to go for the jugular is when someone uses a pet name in addressing me for the first time.  When I open an introduction and someone starts by saying, ‘Hello princess, or angel, or darling, or baby, or cutie, or doll…or even saying ‘hello sexy…”   Once again a complete turn-off.  Those are terms of endearments that people share once they have gotten to know one another.

Perhaps other women like that sort of thing, and that’s fine if they do.  We are all different in this respect but I still have a problem with someone I don’t know addressing me in such a manner.

I have been taking pointers from people who have had success as I move through this process.  I will tell them something (ie: the pet names) and they laugh and say just ignore and press delete or block.  I don’t owe anyone an explanation as to why I haven’t responded to them.  If I see someone of interest and I drop them a line, I simply say that I like their profile and invite them to check mine out and if interested give me a holler back.

And you know what?  I seldom get a reply back.  That’s cool.  No big deal on my end.  I make note of it and move on.  At times I have had guys who keep sending responses, each time becoming more adamant that I reply.  That is usually when I block them.

One of the oddest things in this mix has been the younger men who contact me.  There is this strange phenomenon around the so called ‘Cougar’.  I am not a ‘Cougar’.  I have no desire to have some young guy that wants to service my needs and in turn be ‘cared for’.  Kind of the reverse of a Sugar Daddy I suppose, only we have been labelled a big cat.  GRRRRRRRR!

Ah, well, should I find success in this process, I will let you know.  Somehow it all seems a bit more complicated.

Enjoy your Monday.

 

Rejection


This has been a very solitary weekend for me.  I have tried reaching out to people yet I get no reply or response.  It is that age old fear that suddenly gripped me on Saturday that I was being disposed of. That I was no longer of any value to my friends who were not returning my calls.  This morning I had a different take on the whole thing.

Just for the record, phone calls have still not been returned which is unusual.

But I thought it odd that I immediately felt that I had done something wrong.  Had I said something?  Had I offended in some way?  It was not meant to be so. Of course, I had not said anything or done anything, so why did I suddenly feel so lacking and at fault?

I have come to understand that emotions are stored at a cellular level and when something unpleasant is triggered it associates with a past experience that likely has very little to do with the current situation, yet emotional we tie the two together.

All I can do is offer my friendship and if it is not taken or not valued, there is very little I can do about that.  All I can do is let the person know that if they need me, I’m here.  As is often the case with such situations, I discover down the road that something else entirely was going on.   Then I end up feeling foolish thinking that I had somehow done or said something to upset them.

If someone is pissed with me, then please, tell me.  I can be a bit over bearing at times.  I know this.  Most people who know me are aware of this little idiosycrasy as well.

Going deep this weekend.