I am coaching at Choices (www.choicesseminars.com) with both my daughters this week. It was an awesome day yesterday -- and promises to continue!
But....
There were huge thunderstorms in Calgary Tuesday night and my Internet at home was affected. I can't promise to post here until Monday, June 11 as I won't have access online from home.
May everyone have an inspired week. May you walk with grace, ease and dignity through your days, shining your light for all to see.
In love,
Louise
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Castles in the air and dreaming
“If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams,
and endeavors to live the life which he
has imagined, he will meet with success unexpected in common hours ….
has imagined, he will meet with success unexpected in common hours ….
If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost;
that is where they should be.
Now put the foundations under them.”
Now put the foundations under them.”
Henry David Thoreau
When I was a little girl I dreamt of fairy-tale castles rising out of the mists of happily ever after. I imagined myself wearing glass slippers lovingly placed upon my size 5 feet by my one and only knight in shining armor, my very own Prince Charming.
As I grew and life’s journey hit me with its inevitable trials and tribulations, joys and triumphs, I let go of some of my magical thinking. Occasionally I tested the rails of my white picket fence illusions as I climbed the corporate ladder shod in my size 9 combat boots with their sensible heels and cushioned soles. Sometimes, I booted the heck out of fools dressed in princes clothing as I lived it up, larger than life, dressed in my designer togs and all the trappings of my success.
But, I never let go of my childhood imaginings. In the dead of night, when only my dreams were awake and longing for the sunrise of a new day dawning, I secretly clung to the vision of a glass slipper that would never break. I’d whisper into my pillow my yearnings for the man who would ride in through the gaps separating my reality from my dreams and set me free. Only he could make it all worth my while to have journeyed thus far in these size 9 shoes that fit their purpose but cramped my style.
I was meant to be a fairytale princess! Why on earth was I living the life of a single mother and career woman with size 9 feet, taking charge of her life and everyone else’s too? In the confessional of my shower, I’d sing the siren’s call for my one true love to come sailing in out of the mists. I envisioned my Adonis, tall and proud, the wind blowing his curly locks from his broad forehead, the muscles rippling upon his bronzed and gleaming chest as he stood, strong and free in the golden light of the sun dancing upon the crashing waves through which only one so brave as he dared venture. In his large hands, nicely manicured I might add, he held my perfect pair of Size 5 Prada’s. They were meant for me and only me. My fair prince had been searching the world over for my perfect fairy tale princess feet to slip them onto. These were the shoes of my dreams and mine were the soles that had been calling him onward through the storms and trials of his odyssey through time. These heels would set me dancing upon the road of life in step with my Prince, finally alive in the golden dawn of our tomorrows bathed in the rosy glow of happily ever after.
What dreams we weave when life does not fit our illusions. At night I’d dream, storing my secret longings into the corners of my mind as I traveled the convoluted alley ways and by ways of tales I’d dragged from childhood and never discarded on the road of life. By dawn's early light, I’d arise, organize my day and my daughters’ lives. I’d walk the dog, prepare lunches and get a move on.
Sometimes, I’d meet a man who appeared to be ‘the one’, but, inevitably, the shoe didn't fit or simply lost a heel or got worn down. So, I’d take it off (or he’d take it off me!) and I’d toss it aside onto the stormy seas of life as I kept moving along. Bereft of yet another pair of what I had perceived to be the perfect fitting soles, I'd try another pair. Eyes closed, I’d stuff my bruised and battered feet into yet another pair of shoes that did not quite fit, because, who ever heard of a fairy tale princess with big feet hoofing it alone on the highway of life? Having spent my life making the medium fit the message, I knew that if the shoe didn’t fit, I still had to wear it! How else would I find my happy ending promised to me once upon a time so long ago?
There were times in that journey that I tried to go barefoot. I wanted to feel the green, green grasses of home sweet home that I created for me and mine or test the waters of a far and distant shore. But no matter how brave or daring or independent I became or how many times I tried to step out of those boots that just kept walking on and on and on, messages from the past kept haunting me. It's not safe to walk the road without a man to protect you. It's not wise to dance barefoot in the dawn. Watch out for broken glass. Don't climb too high, you might fall or lose your way without someone else to light the path with his strength and wisdom. And above all else, if the shoe don't fit but the price is right, buy them anyway. You can always stretch them but you may never find another pair at that price again. Disaster! Even when sometimes I realized I was paying too steep a price, I was beaten down and exhausted. There was no way I was going to pay attention to my own distant drummer and get into my own beat!
And then he sailed in. The instrument of my awakening. He was just a man. But what a man. He was transparent as a beautiful mirage, an oasis in my dusty travels across the desert. An apparition of my dreams. My one true love. My soul mate. He saw me standing there in my size 9 combat boots and held out to me the perfectly glass heeled perfection of the Size 5 Prada’s of my dreams. With an exhausted, but oh so grateful, sigh that he could see me for whom I really was, I stepped into the carefully cut crystals of his illusions and, though they pinched a little bit at the toes, and made my arches ache, I didn’t care. He was holding me steady on his course, taking me to my destiny of happily ever after on tiny, twinkling dainty like soles that sparkled in the light fantastic.
What a lovely dream it was.
Like everything made of thin air, my bubble burst, throwing me to the ground where I lay bleeding in the dirt of the road to hell. My glass slippers lay shattered on the ground, their tiny shards glistening in the blood of my broken heart as I tried to sweep the evidence of their breaking-up into the muddy waters of my tears coursing all around me. My soles were cut and bruised, bleeding copiously, scarred beyond recognition. My back ached. My heart yearned for my comfortable, familiar, easy to take Size 9 combat boots of the past. I wondered how I would ever find the strength to fit these mangled, deformed appendages into even a pair of thongs, let along sensible walking shoes that would carry me off the road to hell back to the familiar territory of my life.
As often happens when fairy tales end and real life takes over, a wondrous thing happened. A ray of sunshine appeared upon the horizon, cast a rainbow upon the puddle of my tears and captured my imagination. I looked up to see a glimmer of hope glistening in the dawn. Adonis had sailed off into another sunset but I had risen to another day, stronger, more vibrant and more full of colour than ever before. I didn’t have to wear any shoes if I didn’t want to. I didn’t have to shove my feet into pointed toes, or 6 inch heels or even combat boots. I could walk my road of life with grace and dignity, as long as I stayed true to my one true self.
It was then I awoke to the truth. This man who had swept in upon a boat of a thousand promises, singing a song of dreams come true had left me with a gift far greater than any promise he had ever made me. He may have shattered my beautiful glass slippers but I had survived that journey into hell and come through to the other side of happily ever after.
Into the thousands of fragments of my glass slippers I let go of the illusion that my destiny waits in size 5 Prada's or in the hands of any man, or woman for that matter, who would hold out my dreams to me.
No one holds the secret pathway that will take me into walking my truth. That is my journey of me, myself and I. No one can give me my dreams come true. My dreams are mine to create. Mine to awaken. I had stood so long in the shadows of my life, looking for someone to hand me the perfect fitting shoes to walk in that I had let go of my truth. There is no perfect shoe to fit my dreams, but there is a perfect fit to my life. It is me. I am it. I am my dreams.
This pauper in prince’s clothing showed me through the mirror of his lies, that the greatest lie of all lived within me. Through the illusionary art of his web of finely woven untruths and deceits I came face to face with my greatest truth and my biggest fear -- turning up for my Beauty and my Beast in love with all that I am meant to be.
Barefoot or not, my soul is free to shine and I am free to be all of me when I walk, with truth, integrity and beauty upon my road of life, unencumbered by the belief that anyone else can show me the way if only I wear the magic slippers of their making.
Today, I'm comfortable in my size 9 feet. Comfortable in how I fit my life and how it fits me. It's perfect for me because only I can make my dreams come true.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
All that you are meant to be.
I'm excited. Tomorrow, both my daughters and I will begin coaching together at Choices (http://www.choicesseminars.com/). Looking back over the past four years, I am in awe of where we are together today. As the saying goes, "We've come a long way baby!"
Four years ago, my daughters were angry, hurt, confused, lost. Four years ago we were not speaking. They knew that I had been found alive after having disappeared for 3 months with the conman. They knew where I was. But they didn't want to speak to me. And, I was so bruised and beaten down, so weary I knew I was not strong enough to speak to them, to withstand their anger.
The conman was arrested May 21, 2003. It wasn't until June 11, 2003 that I spoke to my daughters on the phone for the first time since his arrest. I had held back from phoning - everyone agreed they both needed time to get through their anger, and that I wasn't 'well' enough to talk to them. Finally, on June 11 I thought, "This is crazy. My daughters need to hear from me how sorry I am, and how much I love them. They need to hear from me that what happened with Conrad had nothing to do with my love for them and everything to do with my lack of love for me." And so, I got up, picked up the phone and spent a beautiful hour and a half speaking with my eldest daughter. My younger daughter wasn't home, but she called me later that evening. It was heaven to hear their voices and to be able to begin the process of healing together.
This week, the three of us will share the coaching experience. Our focus is on helping other people break through their internal resistance that is keeping them from embracing their magnificent selves. Last year when my youngest daughter went through the program she said, "I always knew people like my mom loved me. I never knew how important it was to love myself." At eighteen that is a powerful lesson. She 'got it'! And with it, she has the courage and strength to fearlessly leap into life, no holds barred, no stone unturned, no door unlocked. Loving herself, warts and all, gives her the awesome power to step onto centre stage of her own life, fearlessly exploring all that she is meant to be as she becomes her one true self.
It will be a busy week of long days, lots of learning, growing, stretching. This is the third time I have coached at Choices and every time I experience it, I receive these amazing continuous WOWs! exploding throughout my being.
I don't know what adventure awaits me in the days ahead, (I never do 'cause the future is yet to unfold!), but I do know that whatever opportunity of learning opens up before me, I will eagerly step into the unknown. With confidence and grace, I will step into the mystery unwrapping itself from the nether regions of my mind as I unravel the secrets of what was holding me back from embracing my shadow with my light. I am always richer for its unfolding when I flow with the current of wisdom within me, rather than swimming against the flow.
In my experience, resistance to exploring my internal space has trapped me into believing that I am better off not knowing the mysteries inside me. When my vision was clouded by my belief that inside me was a dark and scary place, my world outside me was filled with fear and trepidations. As I've grown, I've cleared away the foggy tendrils slipping through the crevasses of my mind. I've opened myself up to the awesome truth within -- "We are Spiritual Beings having a human experience that is unfolding perfectly from a Cosmic perspective - with no accidents, coincidences, or mistakes." Robert Burney
When I look at the bumps in the road of life as 'happenings', not accidents, coincidences or mistakes, I accept my power and responsibility to create a more loving, joyful life. Rather than blame an unknown Fate, or unseen powers for what's happening in my life, I accept full responsibility. Life is filled with growth -- and every day is filled with choice. To create harmony. To create discord. To create joy. To create sorrow. To create laughter. To create anger.
The choice is always mine what I create in my life. In those moments when I am resisting life, I am pushing against my internal wisdom by giving into my internal angst and discord.
Sometime ago I had a recurring dream about being in a deep, dark forest. Where ever I looked, long viney tendrils of dark leafy fronds and tree branches blocked my progress. I tried slipping through the stalks, but they were too dense. I tried going back, but my way was blocked by the forest around me. Finally, I picked up the sword that had hung useless by my side as I stood in fear of the dark woods around me, and began to hack through the cloying forest arms impeding my progress. With each mighty heave of my sword, the forest fell away. And with each step forward, each vine chopped back, light began to filter down through the canopy above me, lighting the path before me.
That is my journey through life. Before I could move forward, I had to chop away the toxic emotions holding me back from experiencing the limitless joy of my being here on earth. When that dream first slipped into my awareness, I was awed by the power of my sword to cut a swathe through the vines that were clinging to me, keeping me from moving forward. As my awareness grew, I would meditate on the image of me and my sword breaking free of the dark cloying tendrils of the forest. Each vine became a negative thought holding me back. Each slash of my sword broke me free of my resistance to change, my aversion to seeing my light before me.
This week I will spend five days working alongside my daughters. Our time will be filled with joy and laughter mixed up with tears and sorrow, happiness and love. As we move through these days I know one thing is for sure. Whatever adventure appears, we will be united in the bond of love that sustains us, nourishes us, and carries us joyfully through whatever life unfolds.
In love, we are powerful beyond our dreams. In love, we become all that we are meant to be.
May your day be filled with the awesome truth that you are all you're meant to be. May you joyfully embrace all that you are and all that you can be when you walk with grace, ease and dignity, in love.
Four years ago, my daughters were angry, hurt, confused, lost. Four years ago we were not speaking. They knew that I had been found alive after having disappeared for 3 months with the conman. They knew where I was. But they didn't want to speak to me. And, I was so bruised and beaten down, so weary I knew I was not strong enough to speak to them, to withstand their anger.
The conman was arrested May 21, 2003. It wasn't until June 11, 2003 that I spoke to my daughters on the phone for the first time since his arrest. I had held back from phoning - everyone agreed they both needed time to get through their anger, and that I wasn't 'well' enough to talk to them. Finally, on June 11 I thought, "This is crazy. My daughters need to hear from me how sorry I am, and how much I love them. They need to hear from me that what happened with Conrad had nothing to do with my love for them and everything to do with my lack of love for me." And so, I got up, picked up the phone and spent a beautiful hour and a half speaking with my eldest daughter. My younger daughter wasn't home, but she called me later that evening. It was heaven to hear their voices and to be able to begin the process of healing together.
This week, the three of us will share the coaching experience. Our focus is on helping other people break through their internal resistance that is keeping them from embracing their magnificent selves. Last year when my youngest daughter went through the program she said, "I always knew people like my mom loved me. I never knew how important it was to love myself." At eighteen that is a powerful lesson. She 'got it'! And with it, she has the courage and strength to fearlessly leap into life, no holds barred, no stone unturned, no door unlocked. Loving herself, warts and all, gives her the awesome power to step onto centre stage of her own life, fearlessly exploring all that she is meant to be as she becomes her one true self.
It will be a busy week of long days, lots of learning, growing, stretching. This is the third time I have coached at Choices and every time I experience it, I receive these amazing continuous WOWs! exploding throughout my being.
I don't know what adventure awaits me in the days ahead, (I never do 'cause the future is yet to unfold!), but I do know that whatever opportunity of learning opens up before me, I will eagerly step into the unknown. With confidence and grace, I will step into the mystery unwrapping itself from the nether regions of my mind as I unravel the secrets of what was holding me back from embracing my shadow with my light. I am always richer for its unfolding when I flow with the current of wisdom within me, rather than swimming against the flow.
In my experience, resistance to exploring my internal space has trapped me into believing that I am better off not knowing the mysteries inside me. When my vision was clouded by my belief that inside me was a dark and scary place, my world outside me was filled with fear and trepidations. As I've grown, I've cleared away the foggy tendrils slipping through the crevasses of my mind. I've opened myself up to the awesome truth within -- "We are Spiritual Beings having a human experience that is unfolding perfectly from a Cosmic perspective - with no accidents, coincidences, or mistakes." Robert Burney
When I look at the bumps in the road of life as 'happenings', not accidents, coincidences or mistakes, I accept my power and responsibility to create a more loving, joyful life. Rather than blame an unknown Fate, or unseen powers for what's happening in my life, I accept full responsibility. Life is filled with growth -- and every day is filled with choice. To create harmony. To create discord. To create joy. To create sorrow. To create laughter. To create anger.
The choice is always mine what I create in my life. In those moments when I am resisting life, I am pushing against my internal wisdom by giving into my internal angst and discord.
Sometime ago I had a recurring dream about being in a deep, dark forest. Where ever I looked, long viney tendrils of dark leafy fronds and tree branches blocked my progress. I tried slipping through the stalks, but they were too dense. I tried going back, but my way was blocked by the forest around me. Finally, I picked up the sword that had hung useless by my side as I stood in fear of the dark woods around me, and began to hack through the cloying forest arms impeding my progress. With each mighty heave of my sword, the forest fell away. And with each step forward, each vine chopped back, light began to filter down through the canopy above me, lighting the path before me.
That is my journey through life. Before I could move forward, I had to chop away the toxic emotions holding me back from experiencing the limitless joy of my being here on earth. When that dream first slipped into my awareness, I was awed by the power of my sword to cut a swathe through the vines that were clinging to me, keeping me from moving forward. As my awareness grew, I would meditate on the image of me and my sword breaking free of the dark cloying tendrils of the forest. Each vine became a negative thought holding me back. Each slash of my sword broke me free of my resistance to change, my aversion to seeing my light before me.
This week I will spend five days working alongside my daughters. Our time will be filled with joy and laughter mixed up with tears and sorrow, happiness and love. As we move through these days I know one thing is for sure. Whatever adventure appears, we will be united in the bond of love that sustains us, nourishes us, and carries us joyfully through whatever life unfolds.
In love, we are powerful beyond our dreams. In love, we become all that we are meant to be.
May your day be filled with the awesome truth that you are all you're meant to be. May you joyfully embrace all that you are and all that you can be when you walk with grace, ease and dignity, in love.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Surrender and fall in love
Ernest Holmes, the author of Science of Mind, said, "The world is for all of us, not against us."
It's the half glass full/half empty concept. Where's your attitude? For or against?
Mine is for. The world is not out to get me. Events happen, crises arise not because the world has set out to get me, but rather because -- events, positive and negative happen -- that's life. That's what happens. My responsibility is to get up and get on with being my perfectly human self in all kinds of weather.
Holmes also said, "I do not believe that God has imposed suffering upon anyone to punish them or to teach them a lesson."
I couldn't agree more.
My experience with Conrad was not an angry God teaching me a lesson in life or punishing me for unknown transgressions. I believe the Conrad experience resulted because along that pathway I did not awaken to my truth. I did not step into my power. I used my will to take me further and further along the road to hell because I was resisting my truth and embracing his lies. Not because of who he was, but rather, because I refused to be who I am by accepting what he told me as truth about me -- that I was not enough, that I deserved his abuse, that I was meant to live in the shadows of his lies.
In awakening from that relationship, I stepped into my power. I embraced my truth and joyfully accepted, in all my pain and sorrow, my right to be perfectly human -- without fear or anger or shame. The truth is, before Conrad I was struggling to find my way. After Conrad, I could see my way clearly. There were 1,000 paths I could have taken to get to where I am today. That is the one I chose.
When I was in that relationship, I put a lot of power into Conrad. I put a lot of belief in his ability to hold dominion over my mind. In the act of giving into him, I gave up on me and resisted my own power. I pushed aside my right to claim centre stage in my own life and stepped into his assertions he knew what was best for me. And that's why I fell so deep.
Buried deep within me was the lie I had folded my thinking around when I was a child like a mother folding cake batter around a quarter in the centre of a birthday cake -- that lie was, bad things happen to me because I'm a bad person. As a child, the bad things that happened to me were not because of me -- they were because the adults in my life did not or could not do any better than they were doing because that was all they knew to do. It doesn't mean abuse is okay -- it does mean, it's not okay to carry the abuse inside me from childhood into my adult life. As a child, however, I did not understand that what was happening to me was not because of me. I couldn't understand why I felt the way I did and did not have the ability to make sense of what was happening in my world. I wanted to be joyful about my life -- and felt only the sadness of knowing I was not who those I turned to for love wanted me to be -- or so I believed. I did not have the power to stop my pain, and so I perverted what was happening to me into the lie that I deserved it because I was not worthy of love.
I was lucky. I am inherently positive by nature. I didn't like the way I felt inside and so kept trying to be happy on the outside. As I matured, I struggled to find balance in my life by aligning my inner being with my outer being. I believed in the miracle of life. I believed in the wonder and possibilities of the universe -- I just couldn't see my way clear to having it all. To see the miracle of me when I looked in the mirror. I didn't want to feel so badly about myself -- especially when I knew I was meant to feel the awesomeness of being human. In my twenties and thirties I was in an out of therapy. In and out of self-help bookstores. Constantly seeking the answer to my dilemma -- if I'm a child of God, why do I feel like the devil inside?
By my forties, I knew a lot -- but my knowledge was head based, not heart inspired. I struggled to take that 18 inch walk connecting the two and then one day, in walked Conrad. I could have gone either way with him. When the first pink flags started to fall I could have said -- your ideas and values don't fit my life. -- and carried on without him. But, I was still unsure of my truth. Still unsure of my centre ground. I stayed a moment too long. In my hesitation, his lies took hold in the fertile ground of my imagination and I became lost on the road to hell because -- well... I was looking for a short cut to happiness and he offered me a free ride into the beautiful rosy pink dawn of happily ever after.
I don't regret that experience -- I can't change it. I can't undo it. I can accept it. It was hell. It hurt a lot of people whom I love and I hurt myself. In coming through it, I have been blessed with forgiveness. With peace of mind. With a loving heart -- mine and those I love. In my blessings, I have embraced the truth -- bad things happened to me, not because I deserved them, but rather, because I did not believe I deserved better. I did not believe in my own miraculous being. My awesome light. My beauty, my greatness, my limitless love.
There was a time when I wanted to take up the warriors sword. To cut down all the 'bad' people in the world, including Conrad because they are the cause of all the bad in the world. Truth is, when I blame them for the 'bad' in my life, I am in victim's mode. I am not taking 100% responsibility for me. I am looking out there for my feelings in here.
Bad things happen in this world. There is no doubt. Millions upon millions of good things happen every where as well -- it isn't what happens that makes the difference, it's what we do with life's happenings that creates the life we live. As long as I focus on changing the bad, and not multiplying the good, I am putting power into negative and draining the energy from the positive.
Who I am inside makes the difference to my world outside of me. When I embrace my beauty, warts and all, I embrace all of me and celebrate myself exactly the way I am. In my celebration I joyfully accept my power, my creativity, my divine right to be a wondrous child of God standing in the light of her creation.
Step into your day embracing the awesome truth of your life -- you are a wondrous child of God, a divine being living a human existence filled with the limitless possibilities of life when you live it fearlessly, joyfully and lovingly.
Step into joyfulness on your journey today and surrender to the awesome truth of who you are as you fall,
In love.
It's the half glass full/half empty concept. Where's your attitude? For or against?
Mine is for. The world is not out to get me. Events happen, crises arise not because the world has set out to get me, but rather because -- events, positive and negative happen -- that's life. That's what happens. My responsibility is to get up and get on with being my perfectly human self in all kinds of weather.
Holmes also said, "I do not believe that God has imposed suffering upon anyone to punish them or to teach them a lesson."
I couldn't agree more.
My experience with Conrad was not an angry God teaching me a lesson in life or punishing me for unknown transgressions. I believe the Conrad experience resulted because along that pathway I did not awaken to my truth. I did not step into my power. I used my will to take me further and further along the road to hell because I was resisting my truth and embracing his lies. Not because of who he was, but rather, because I refused to be who I am by accepting what he told me as truth about me -- that I was not enough, that I deserved his abuse, that I was meant to live in the shadows of his lies.
In awakening from that relationship, I stepped into my power. I embraced my truth and joyfully accepted, in all my pain and sorrow, my right to be perfectly human -- without fear or anger or shame. The truth is, before Conrad I was struggling to find my way. After Conrad, I could see my way clearly. There were 1,000 paths I could have taken to get to where I am today. That is the one I chose.
When I was in that relationship, I put a lot of power into Conrad. I put a lot of belief in his ability to hold dominion over my mind. In the act of giving into him, I gave up on me and resisted my own power. I pushed aside my right to claim centre stage in my own life and stepped into his assertions he knew what was best for me. And that's why I fell so deep.
Buried deep within me was the lie I had folded my thinking around when I was a child like a mother folding cake batter around a quarter in the centre of a birthday cake -- that lie was, bad things happen to me because I'm a bad person. As a child, the bad things that happened to me were not because of me -- they were because the adults in my life did not or could not do any better than they were doing because that was all they knew to do. It doesn't mean abuse is okay -- it does mean, it's not okay to carry the abuse inside me from childhood into my adult life. As a child, however, I did not understand that what was happening to me was not because of me. I couldn't understand why I felt the way I did and did not have the ability to make sense of what was happening in my world. I wanted to be joyful about my life -- and felt only the sadness of knowing I was not who those I turned to for love wanted me to be -- or so I believed. I did not have the power to stop my pain, and so I perverted what was happening to me into the lie that I deserved it because I was not worthy of love.
I was lucky. I am inherently positive by nature. I didn't like the way I felt inside and so kept trying to be happy on the outside. As I matured, I struggled to find balance in my life by aligning my inner being with my outer being. I believed in the miracle of life. I believed in the wonder and possibilities of the universe -- I just couldn't see my way clear to having it all. To see the miracle of me when I looked in the mirror. I didn't want to feel so badly about myself -- especially when I knew I was meant to feel the awesomeness of being human. In my twenties and thirties I was in an out of therapy. In and out of self-help bookstores. Constantly seeking the answer to my dilemma -- if I'm a child of God, why do I feel like the devil inside?
By my forties, I knew a lot -- but my knowledge was head based, not heart inspired. I struggled to take that 18 inch walk connecting the two and then one day, in walked Conrad. I could have gone either way with him. When the first pink flags started to fall I could have said -- your ideas and values don't fit my life. -- and carried on without him. But, I was still unsure of my truth. Still unsure of my centre ground. I stayed a moment too long. In my hesitation, his lies took hold in the fertile ground of my imagination and I became lost on the road to hell because -- well... I was looking for a short cut to happiness and he offered me a free ride into the beautiful rosy pink dawn of happily ever after.
I don't regret that experience -- I can't change it. I can't undo it. I can accept it. It was hell. It hurt a lot of people whom I love and I hurt myself. In coming through it, I have been blessed with forgiveness. With peace of mind. With a loving heart -- mine and those I love. In my blessings, I have embraced the truth -- bad things happened to me, not because I deserved them, but rather, because I did not believe I deserved better. I did not believe in my own miraculous being. My awesome light. My beauty, my greatness, my limitless love.
There was a time when I wanted to take up the warriors sword. To cut down all the 'bad' people in the world, including Conrad because they are the cause of all the bad in the world. Truth is, when I blame them for the 'bad' in my life, I am in victim's mode. I am not taking 100% responsibility for me. I am looking out there for my feelings in here.
Bad things happen in this world. There is no doubt. Millions upon millions of good things happen every where as well -- it isn't what happens that makes the difference, it's what we do with life's happenings that creates the life we live. As long as I focus on changing the bad, and not multiplying the good, I am putting power into negative and draining the energy from the positive.
Who I am inside makes the difference to my world outside of me. When I embrace my beauty, warts and all, I embrace all of me and celebrate myself exactly the way I am. In my celebration I joyfully accept my power, my creativity, my divine right to be a wondrous child of God standing in the light of her creation.
Step into your day embracing the awesome truth of your life -- you are a wondrous child of God, a divine being living a human existence filled with the limitless possibilities of life when you live it fearlessly, joyfully and lovingly.
Step into joyfulness on your journey today and surrender to the awesome truth of who you are as you fall,
In love.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
With this breath I take a leap of faith
Some mornings I awaken and wonder, what on earth am I going to write? How can new words, new thoughts come to me this morning, haven't I used them up yet?
And then, I sit down at the keyboard, and there they are. Tripping off my fingertips, spilling out onto the screen.
Faith. Ya gotta have faith.
It's Sunday morning so perhaps that's why faith has risen up. When I was a little girl, I loved Sunday mornings. I loved getting all dressed up in my special clothes and putting on my hat and going with my family to church. I didn't care too much about what was being said -- back then much of it was in Latin so I didn't have a clue what was being said! But I loved the solemnity of the occasion. The rituals. The smells. The incense. The ladies perfumes. The men's colognes. I loved walking into the church. That click, click, click my shoes made against the concrete of the church's floor. The hallowed feeling to the air. The sense of airiness and light and shadow at play throughout the space.
The feeling that something, someone Divine was present. I used to wonder if God only lived in church on Sunday, where was he the rest of the week. I quit asking though. The question only seemed to make people angry.
I still wonder about that.
When I was a little girl I didn't think of God as the friendliest being in the world. In fact, God and my father had a lot in common. A big hand. Eyes that watched me even when I was alone. And a voice that could scare the daylight out of me even when I was hiding in a closet.
God was not someone I confided in, but I loved going to church.
My mother used to 'do' the flowers on the altar. Once a week my sister and I would go with her and quietly sit in a pew as she arranged the flowers in the big glass vases that sat on either side of the altar on the floor. A. and I would have to be quiet. We weren't supposed to talk in church, even when we were alone. We'd sit on the wooden pew, it's sleek wood cool against the back of our legs. Our feet didn't touch the ground and we would swing our legs and whisper to each other, trying desperately to suppress our giggles as I made up stories about the people whose lives were captured in the stained glass windows, or whose statues stood in silent witness in the alcoves around the church.
When my mother was finished with the flowers she'd beckon to us both to join her at the altar. We'd slip off the benches, race towards her and suddenly stop when her tight lipped face and angry gesture reminded us to WALK. Like being at the pool, which was my other favouritest place in the whole wide world, we weren't supposed to run in church. A. and I would guiltily stop, slow down and walk towards my mother. When we reached the altar, she would turn back to face the crucifix, genuflect and kneel. A. and I would awkwardly perform our version of a genuflect, then kneel on either side of her on the red bristly rug of the altar step. With bowed head we'd say our prayers. I used to wonder why the rugs were always red, but I quit asking that question too. No one seemed to have an answer.
I remember not liking having my eyes closed when I prayed. I was terrified of the crucifix hanging from the ceiling above the altar. I didn't like the idea of a man hanging up there. Blood dripping from the wound in his side and palms. I didn't like the sad look on his face, and I particularly didn't like that thought that he might pick that very moment to climb down from his cross and come alive right before my eyes. If he could do it once, he could do it again! I didn't want to miss the action but was worried he would be angry with me. I was never ready with a sin free soul. I always seemed to be carrying around one or two transgressions.
When I was a little girl I loved going to church for the rituals, for the time alone with my parents, for the feeling of being part of something bigger, something greater than just me.
It is that sense of wonder that still holds me in thrall every time I step into a place of worship. It is that quiet, serene beauty of a place where the divine comes to earth and the air is filled with the feeling of being connected to a universe greater than the space we live in on a daily basis. And, it is the awe I feel when my thoughts quiet, my mind quits racing and I sit and feel my steady heart beating in time.
I love going to church. It is a place of community. Of wonder. Of awe. For me, it is a place where faith transcends religion. Where the power of Love ascends above the daily grind and connects me to the awesome, amazing wonder of being human.
It is a place of Love.
This morning, whether you step into a building erected to worship the God of your choosing, or whether you step outside to witness the beauty of your day in full bloom, let your spirit soar free. Take a deep and satisfying breath. Let the oxygen flow into your body and with each breath in feel it transform into the energy that feeds you, sustains you, carries you into your day. Let the energy of the universe enter your body so that you can walk through your day filled with the awesome power of the world around you.
Living is about faith. Who knew that a tiny seed could become the miracle of you? That in your body the wonder of life would come alive in all its awesome power and beauty?
It takes faith to be human. Faith that this journey will carry you forward in love. Faith that every night when you go to sleep your body will awaken in the morning. Faith that as you travel through your day your body will support without your bones falling down inside you. And faith that this breath you take will lead to the next and the next and the next.
Today, with every breath I take, I take a leap of faith that what I need to sustain my life will be carried into my body on a breath of air. In that breath the moment just passed will connect me to the moment in the here and now as I breathe. In. Out. In. Out. As the air enters my body, it is transformed into life giving energy that sustains me and connects me to everyone in the universe. We all breathe the same air. Sharing of the wonder and mystery that is life on earth.
With every breath I take, I am filled with the awesome power of the universe around me as I connect to the awesome power of you.
Nameste.
And then, I sit down at the keyboard, and there they are. Tripping off my fingertips, spilling out onto the screen.
Faith. Ya gotta have faith.
It's Sunday morning so perhaps that's why faith has risen up. When I was a little girl, I loved Sunday mornings. I loved getting all dressed up in my special clothes and putting on my hat and going with my family to church. I didn't care too much about what was being said -- back then much of it was in Latin so I didn't have a clue what was being said! But I loved the solemnity of the occasion. The rituals. The smells. The incense. The ladies perfumes. The men's colognes. I loved walking into the church. That click, click, click my shoes made against the concrete of the church's floor. The hallowed feeling to the air. The sense of airiness and light and shadow at play throughout the space.
The feeling that something, someone Divine was present. I used to wonder if God only lived in church on Sunday, where was he the rest of the week. I quit asking though. The question only seemed to make people angry.
I still wonder about that.
When I was a little girl I didn't think of God as the friendliest being in the world. In fact, God and my father had a lot in common. A big hand. Eyes that watched me even when I was alone. And a voice that could scare the daylight out of me even when I was hiding in a closet.
God was not someone I confided in, but I loved going to church.
My mother used to 'do' the flowers on the altar. Once a week my sister and I would go with her and quietly sit in a pew as she arranged the flowers in the big glass vases that sat on either side of the altar on the floor. A. and I would have to be quiet. We weren't supposed to talk in church, even when we were alone. We'd sit on the wooden pew, it's sleek wood cool against the back of our legs. Our feet didn't touch the ground and we would swing our legs and whisper to each other, trying desperately to suppress our giggles as I made up stories about the people whose lives were captured in the stained glass windows, or whose statues stood in silent witness in the alcoves around the church.
When my mother was finished with the flowers she'd beckon to us both to join her at the altar. We'd slip off the benches, race towards her and suddenly stop when her tight lipped face and angry gesture reminded us to WALK. Like being at the pool, which was my other favouritest place in the whole wide world, we weren't supposed to run in church. A. and I would guiltily stop, slow down and walk towards my mother. When we reached the altar, she would turn back to face the crucifix, genuflect and kneel. A. and I would awkwardly perform our version of a genuflect, then kneel on either side of her on the red bristly rug of the altar step. With bowed head we'd say our prayers. I used to wonder why the rugs were always red, but I quit asking that question too. No one seemed to have an answer.
I remember not liking having my eyes closed when I prayed. I was terrified of the crucifix hanging from the ceiling above the altar. I didn't like the idea of a man hanging up there. Blood dripping from the wound in his side and palms. I didn't like the sad look on his face, and I particularly didn't like that thought that he might pick that very moment to climb down from his cross and come alive right before my eyes. If he could do it once, he could do it again! I didn't want to miss the action but was worried he would be angry with me. I was never ready with a sin free soul. I always seemed to be carrying around one or two transgressions.
When I was a little girl I loved going to church for the rituals, for the time alone with my parents, for the feeling of being part of something bigger, something greater than just me.
It is that sense of wonder that still holds me in thrall every time I step into a place of worship. It is that quiet, serene beauty of a place where the divine comes to earth and the air is filled with the feeling of being connected to a universe greater than the space we live in on a daily basis. And, it is the awe I feel when my thoughts quiet, my mind quits racing and I sit and feel my steady heart beating in time.
I love going to church. It is a place of community. Of wonder. Of awe. For me, it is a place where faith transcends religion. Where the power of Love ascends above the daily grind and connects me to the awesome, amazing wonder of being human.
It is a place of Love.
This morning, whether you step into a building erected to worship the God of your choosing, or whether you step outside to witness the beauty of your day in full bloom, let your spirit soar free. Take a deep and satisfying breath. Let the oxygen flow into your body and with each breath in feel it transform into the energy that feeds you, sustains you, carries you into your day. Let the energy of the universe enter your body so that you can walk through your day filled with the awesome power of the world around you.
Living is about faith. Who knew that a tiny seed could become the miracle of you? That in your body the wonder of life would come alive in all its awesome power and beauty?
It takes faith to be human. Faith that this journey will carry you forward in love. Faith that every night when you go to sleep your body will awaken in the morning. Faith that as you travel through your day your body will support without your bones falling down inside you. And faith that this breath you take will lead to the next and the next and the next.
Today, with every breath I take, I take a leap of faith that what I need to sustain my life will be carried into my body on a breath of air. In that breath the moment just passed will connect me to the moment in the here and now as I breathe. In. Out. In. Out. As the air enters my body, it is transformed into life giving energy that sustains me and connects me to everyone in the universe. We all breathe the same air. Sharing of the wonder and mystery that is life on earth.
With every breath I take, I am filled with the awesome power of the universe around me as I connect to the awesome power of you.
Nameste.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Lost in the woods
In January I spent a week by myself in one of my very favourite places, Tofino, B.C. Tofino is one of those beautiful places where sea and air and land meet and nature infuses every cell with its glorious song of freedom. Against a backdrop of towering pines bending in the wind, black rock and miles of sandy beach, Tofino invites you to kick back, relax, flow into island time and fill your senses with nature's beauty. Standing on the edge of the land where Tofino sits, there is nothing between you and China except miles and miles of ocean. I love Tofino!
My week there was spent walking the beaches and forest, strolling through the town, sitting in front of a roaring fire sipping wine and writing and reading. It was a glorious time with just myself as company.
One night I walked down from the hotel to the beach. It was dark. A sliver of a moon hung suspended in the sky. The blanket of night was scattered with glittering stars. I walked along the beach, the white foamy waves crashing beside me, the lacy tendrils of their fingers sliding along the sand, racing towards me then pulling back into the waters before slipping beneath ths surface. My thoughts floated through my mind, soaring up into the night. I felt so alive! Every sense awakened. Every fibre of my body soothed by the sensuous velvety night that enveloped me.
The beach I walked on was about a mile long. I walked and walked, the salt kissed air cool against my cheeks, the sounds and silvery sights of the night a sibilant whisper in my ears. Eventually, I decided I had to get back to the hotel. I turned around and started making my way towards the trail I'd taken through the woods to get to the beach. Unfortunately, the flashlight I had had the good sense to bring along, chose that point in time to extinguish itself. I was in the dark.
Tucked into a little cove strewn with waterlogged logs and rocks, the trail down to the beach was not visible in the dark. Rather than risk clambering over the slippery logs and rocks, I decided to retrace my steps back to a staircase that led up from the beach to the high tide trail. It was easy to find the staircase, but finding the trail amidst the low hanging branches of the trees that cast eerie shadows in the night was not so easy. I became lost.
Behind me, I could hear the waves crashing, but couldn't see the path back towards them through the dense forest. Fortunately, the staircase I'd taken up from the beach led me into a camping area with a wide trail and roadway -- challenge was, the smaller spaces of the camp sites looped off the road in bigger and bigger concentric loops, each one leading back into itself. Finding the right road to take me to the main road leading back to my hotel was a challenge!
At one point as I searched for egress from the woods, every shadow I saw became a lurking predator -- man or beast I wasn't sure! Bears and cougars roam these woods, and I was pretty sure men did too! Inside my body my heart began to pound, my thinking started triggering, faster and faster. Short sharp staccato thoughts beating themselves into my head of what might happen if I came upon an assailant lurking in the woods. In fact, my mind immediately jumped to Conrad, the man who had once jumped out of the bushes in the dark in an attempt to accost me (he's the conman I was involved with who, while on parole jumped me one night-- my book The Dandelion Spirit tells the story). In the dark, lost in the woods, my mind was running rampant as I frantically searched for an escape from the trees that seemed to be leaning down, their towering tops dipping closer and closer to my running figure.
The panic inside began to rise. I tripped on an exposed root of a tree and stopped. I had to find my sense of balance once again. Surrounded by towering trees, the night black and silky, I cried in the middle of the woods, took a breath and reminded myself to Calm Down. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I consciously moved my mind into calming thoughts. I reminded myself I was finding my way back to the hotel, not deeper into the woods. I reminded myself I could do this as long as I stayed calm. Slowly, my pulse quit racing, my mind quit sparking terror through every vein and I began to consciously find my way back to my hotel.
When I eventually made it back (it took about half an hour) I felt, for the first time during my week of blissful solitude, lonely. I had no one to tell about my almost mis-adventure. I had no one to share my lost in the woods story with. No one to help me laugh at myself as the reality of 'wow, it could have been worse but look what it wasn't' sank in.
My almost mis-adventure in the woods was a great opportunity for me to stop, feel, listen to all my senses. As panic began to ride in, I had to stop myself from rising to its call so that I could calmly, rationally find my way back.
Sometimes in life, we lose our way. When we panic, close off from our thinking, shut down our feelings, we risk becoming lost in the belief that 'out there' is a scary world so, we tell ourselves, it's best to stay locked inside our heads.
For me, in here, inside my mind is where the terror often lurks. In my head that night in the woods, every bush, every log was a predator lying in wait. Every whisper of a tree, hoot of an owl, snap of a twig beneath my feet was one breath away from a figure leaping out of the night. Because I had already had one experience of a dark clothed figure jumping out of the dark towards me, my mind had a concrete visual image to attach itself to. Real or imagined, that night in the woods, the past came alive as I stumbled to find my way.
In the end, I was safe. Not because of the panic, but because I decided to let the panic subside, to not give into its intoxicating pull and sink into feelings of helplessness, fear and alarm. I made my way calmly back to the hotel because I knew that I was lost -- it was up to me to find my way home again.
So often in life, I haven't faced the reality of where I was and ended up losing myself in my belief that what I imagined was real. Without the truth to guide me, I became lost in the lie that I was okay.
I wasn't.
I was lost that night in the woods. I was scared. I was fearful. Regardless of my emotions, however, it was essential that I remain calm in order to find my way. In fear, I was doing nothing but looping back, around and around, on the darkened trails continuously finding myself back at the beginning, not thinking about the trails I was taking and where they would lead me but focussing instead on the fear rising in my head.
Ain't that just like life! There are a thousand paths we can take, but the one we most prefer is the one we've already walked -- even if it takes us back to where we began, we still prefer it to venturing onto new paths to take us to where we want to be.
If I had kept taking the same old path in the woods, I'd still be stuck trying to find my way! Okay, eventually someone would have noticed I was missing, but in my panic I wouldn't be thinking about finding my way out of the woods, I'd be thinking about my fear of what was in the woods waiting to get me.
A friend once said to me, Louise, the most dangerous place for you to be is lost in your head, alone in the dark! Ouch! While I didn't think that was very nice of him -- he's right! Lost in my head is dangerous. Thoughtful, conscious living is important.
That night I was lost in the woods I got out of my own way so that I didn't stay lost in my head continuously looping back on myself. I got conscious and found my way through the dark back to where I belonged.
Have a great day taking new paths leading you to where you want to be as you consciously create the paths that will take you to where you're going.
My week there was spent walking the beaches and forest, strolling through the town, sitting in front of a roaring fire sipping wine and writing and reading. It was a glorious time with just myself as company.
One night I walked down from the hotel to the beach. It was dark. A sliver of a moon hung suspended in the sky. The blanket of night was scattered with glittering stars. I walked along the beach, the white foamy waves crashing beside me, the lacy tendrils of their fingers sliding along the sand, racing towards me then pulling back into the waters before slipping beneath ths surface. My thoughts floated through my mind, soaring up into the night. I felt so alive! Every sense awakened. Every fibre of my body soothed by the sensuous velvety night that enveloped me.
The beach I walked on was about a mile long. I walked and walked, the salt kissed air cool against my cheeks, the sounds and silvery sights of the night a sibilant whisper in my ears. Eventually, I decided I had to get back to the hotel. I turned around and started making my way towards the trail I'd taken through the woods to get to the beach. Unfortunately, the flashlight I had had the good sense to bring along, chose that point in time to extinguish itself. I was in the dark.
Tucked into a little cove strewn with waterlogged logs and rocks, the trail down to the beach was not visible in the dark. Rather than risk clambering over the slippery logs and rocks, I decided to retrace my steps back to a staircase that led up from the beach to the high tide trail. It was easy to find the staircase, but finding the trail amidst the low hanging branches of the trees that cast eerie shadows in the night was not so easy. I became lost.
Behind me, I could hear the waves crashing, but couldn't see the path back towards them through the dense forest. Fortunately, the staircase I'd taken up from the beach led me into a camping area with a wide trail and roadway -- challenge was, the smaller spaces of the camp sites looped off the road in bigger and bigger concentric loops, each one leading back into itself. Finding the right road to take me to the main road leading back to my hotel was a challenge!
At one point as I searched for egress from the woods, every shadow I saw became a lurking predator -- man or beast I wasn't sure! Bears and cougars roam these woods, and I was pretty sure men did too! Inside my body my heart began to pound, my thinking started triggering, faster and faster. Short sharp staccato thoughts beating themselves into my head of what might happen if I came upon an assailant lurking in the woods. In fact, my mind immediately jumped to Conrad, the man who had once jumped out of the bushes in the dark in an attempt to accost me (he's the conman I was involved with who, while on parole jumped me one night-- my book The Dandelion Spirit tells the story). In the dark, lost in the woods, my mind was running rampant as I frantically searched for an escape from the trees that seemed to be leaning down, their towering tops dipping closer and closer to my running figure.
The panic inside began to rise. I tripped on an exposed root of a tree and stopped. I had to find my sense of balance once again. Surrounded by towering trees, the night black and silky, I cried in the middle of the woods, took a breath and reminded myself to Calm Down. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I consciously moved my mind into calming thoughts. I reminded myself I was finding my way back to the hotel, not deeper into the woods. I reminded myself I could do this as long as I stayed calm. Slowly, my pulse quit racing, my mind quit sparking terror through every vein and I began to consciously find my way back to my hotel.
When I eventually made it back (it took about half an hour) I felt, for the first time during my week of blissful solitude, lonely. I had no one to tell about my almost mis-adventure. I had no one to share my lost in the woods story with. No one to help me laugh at myself as the reality of 'wow, it could have been worse but look what it wasn't' sank in.
My almost mis-adventure in the woods was a great opportunity for me to stop, feel, listen to all my senses. As panic began to ride in, I had to stop myself from rising to its call so that I could calmly, rationally find my way back.
Sometimes in life, we lose our way. When we panic, close off from our thinking, shut down our feelings, we risk becoming lost in the belief that 'out there' is a scary world so, we tell ourselves, it's best to stay locked inside our heads.
For me, in here, inside my mind is where the terror often lurks. In my head that night in the woods, every bush, every log was a predator lying in wait. Every whisper of a tree, hoot of an owl, snap of a twig beneath my feet was one breath away from a figure leaping out of the night. Because I had already had one experience of a dark clothed figure jumping out of the dark towards me, my mind had a concrete visual image to attach itself to. Real or imagined, that night in the woods, the past came alive as I stumbled to find my way.
In the end, I was safe. Not because of the panic, but because I decided to let the panic subside, to not give into its intoxicating pull and sink into feelings of helplessness, fear and alarm. I made my way calmly back to the hotel because I knew that I was lost -- it was up to me to find my way home again.
So often in life, I haven't faced the reality of where I was and ended up losing myself in my belief that what I imagined was real. Without the truth to guide me, I became lost in the lie that I was okay.
I wasn't.
I was lost that night in the woods. I was scared. I was fearful. Regardless of my emotions, however, it was essential that I remain calm in order to find my way. In fear, I was doing nothing but looping back, around and around, on the darkened trails continuously finding myself back at the beginning, not thinking about the trails I was taking and where they would lead me but focussing instead on the fear rising in my head.
Ain't that just like life! There are a thousand paths we can take, but the one we most prefer is the one we've already walked -- even if it takes us back to where we began, we still prefer it to venturing onto new paths to take us to where we want to be.
If I had kept taking the same old path in the woods, I'd still be stuck trying to find my way! Okay, eventually someone would have noticed I was missing, but in my panic I wouldn't be thinking about finding my way out of the woods, I'd be thinking about my fear of what was in the woods waiting to get me.
A friend once said to me, Louise, the most dangerous place for you to be is lost in your head, alone in the dark! Ouch! While I didn't think that was very nice of him -- he's right! Lost in my head is dangerous. Thoughtful, conscious living is important.
That night I was lost in the woods I got out of my own way so that I didn't stay lost in my head continuously looping back on myself. I got conscious and found my way through the dark back to where I belonged.
Have a great day taking new paths leading you to where you want to be as you consciously create the paths that will take you to where you're going.
Friday, June 1, 2007
Letting go to getting on and living it up!
Once there was a man who travelled across a desert. Tired, thirsty, lost, he wondered if he would ever find his way out of this place of endless rolling sand dunes when suddenly, he crested a dune and saw on the other side a mighty river. With a hoop and a holler he raced to the water's edge and drank.
Satiated, he took a deep breath and looked to the other side. Tall, leafy trees swayed to and fro in a gentle breeze. Green grass covered the ground in silky perfection. Birds flitted amongst the trees and the air was filled with their beautiful song. Across the river was heaven. Now that's where I want to be, the man thought. But there was no bridge. No boat. Nothing to get him from where he was to where he wanted to be.
The call of that lushly beautiful place was too intriguing. He had to find a way to get there. He would build a raft, he decided. He searched the edge of the riverbank and gathered up whatever wood he found. With painstaking care he fit the pieces of wood together and built a sturdy craft. When he was finished, he eagerly climbed in and paddled across the river. With little effort he made it. He was relieved. He reached the other side, climbed out and lay down on the grass. This place was paradise!
The man looked around and saw a path leading into the woods. He didn't know where it went, but he was eager to find out. This place was so perfect! He wanted to explore. Fearful, however, that he might come across another river, he picked up his craft, loaded it onto his back and set out on his adventure. As the day progressed, the man grew weary. But he could not put down the trusty boat that had carried him to this paradise. He kept walking and the boat got heavier and heavier until eventually, the man fell to the ground beneath the weight of his boat and lay still. He could not walk any further.
What load are you carrying? What riff-raff from the past drags you down as you venture into new horizons, exciting vistas? Is it weighing you down?
Put it down.
But I can't, you say. Ask yourself, why not? If you can make the choice to carry it, do you not have the choice to put it down? Ask yourself -- What's in it for me to walk through today bowed down by the weight of yesterday? What's in it for me to walk backwards into today looking forward to nothing but yesterday?
I believe we all can put down the burdens of the past to venture freely into today. It takes commitment, a strong will, determination and a belief that the value of the past is not in what we hold onto but what we let go of.
The past can teach us many things. But when we hold onto the pain, the anger, the sorrow and regrets, we're not getting the lesson!
Last night my eldest daughter and I were talking about an event that happened during the period when I was missing and she was lost in the hell of having been abandoned by her mother. When she told me what had happened to her I felt sad and angry. But, I could not change what had happened -- I could only help her deal with the feelings that still reside inside her and help her let them go.
Now, in the past, I would have wanted to get angry. To rail against the individuals involved, to blame them for what had gone wrong -- it's a great way to deflect the light from my accountability, my role in what happened! Truth is, stuff goes wrong every day in life. Things happen for which we don't have a map, or guidebook to tell us how to handle them.
For my daughter, there was no rule book entitled, "10 things to do to make sure you're okay when your mother runs off with a psychopath and deserts you."
I mean really, what woman in her right mind would do that? Oh right, I wasn't in my right mind back then. I was really, really sick.
Now I'm not.
Rather than rail against the past, look at all I did wrong and deflect my anger from me to someone else, I lovingly embraced myself for the wounded abused woman I was, and focussed my energy on my daughter who needed my help.
She needs me. The past doesn't.
Last night when we talked I didn't have the perfect words to say to her. I didn't know what exactly I could do to make it all better for her. I couldn't think of a bandaid big enough to close this wound and so I let her feel her own feelings while I simply sat and loved her.
Sometimes, it is all I can do to encourage her to love herself exactly the way she is.
And that is where we come to letting go of unforgiveness. To let go we must forgive. The past, the people, the places and things that hurt us. We need to unhook the nubs of memory holding us in unforgiveness so that we can move with grace, ease and dignity into today without wrapping ourselves up in the prickly hairshirt of what happened to us as protection against the world around us.
Letting go of unforgiveness leaves me free to flow into today without the burden of other people's words and actions pulling me down.
Letting go of unforgiveness frees me from holding myself locked in the arms of the past where I did not know what I know now. Letting it go lightens my load.
My daughter is a courageous and beautiful young woman. Last night as we chatted she thanked me for having given both her and her sister strong self-esteem. We laughed together, cried together and loved together. I told her how blessed I feel to know that even though they went through hell with me, they didn't end up on the street, doing drugs, drinking, living pain-filled lives because of what had happened to me.
"We had a solid foundation of love," she said.
I agree. I look at my daughters and am in awe of their beauty. They are awesome human beings. I am blessed.
So often we see people acting out and blame the burden of the past on their actions today. Ultimately, it is not the past that makes us do things to hurt ourselves today. It is what we do today in the name of the past that hurts us.
When we choose to carry the pain forward, we walk pain-filled steps. When we choose to let it go, to release the pain so that we can move forward without fear of the past being the story of today leading into a fearful tomorrow, we give ourselves the gift of freedom to be all that we are meant to be.
Letting go to getting on and living it up! is the greatest gift we can present ourselves today.
It takes courage, determination and love. It takes compassion, for ourselves and for everyone in our lives, and it takes the wisdom of knowing this is our one and only life. Holding onto the past keeps our hands busy and our minds encumbered. With our hands and minds filled with yesterday's flotsam we are not free to grab onto the limitless opportunities that present themselves when we look at the day with love-filled eyes and know, This is our one and only life. It's time to live it up!
May you journey through today with a forgiving heart, a peaceful mind and a spirit eager to live it up!
Nameste.
Satiated, he took a deep breath and looked to the other side. Tall, leafy trees swayed to and fro in a gentle breeze. Green grass covered the ground in silky perfection. Birds flitted amongst the trees and the air was filled with their beautiful song. Across the river was heaven. Now that's where I want to be, the man thought. But there was no bridge. No boat. Nothing to get him from where he was to where he wanted to be.
The call of that lushly beautiful place was too intriguing. He had to find a way to get there. He would build a raft, he decided. He searched the edge of the riverbank and gathered up whatever wood he found. With painstaking care he fit the pieces of wood together and built a sturdy craft. When he was finished, he eagerly climbed in and paddled across the river. With little effort he made it. He was relieved. He reached the other side, climbed out and lay down on the grass. This place was paradise!
The man looked around and saw a path leading into the woods. He didn't know where it went, but he was eager to find out. This place was so perfect! He wanted to explore. Fearful, however, that he might come across another river, he picked up his craft, loaded it onto his back and set out on his adventure. As the day progressed, the man grew weary. But he could not put down the trusty boat that had carried him to this paradise. He kept walking and the boat got heavier and heavier until eventually, the man fell to the ground beneath the weight of his boat and lay still. He could not walk any further.
What load are you carrying? What riff-raff from the past drags you down as you venture into new horizons, exciting vistas? Is it weighing you down?
Put it down.
But I can't, you say. Ask yourself, why not? If you can make the choice to carry it, do you not have the choice to put it down? Ask yourself -- What's in it for me to walk through today bowed down by the weight of yesterday? What's in it for me to walk backwards into today looking forward to nothing but yesterday?
I believe we all can put down the burdens of the past to venture freely into today. It takes commitment, a strong will, determination and a belief that the value of the past is not in what we hold onto but what we let go of.
The past can teach us many things. But when we hold onto the pain, the anger, the sorrow and regrets, we're not getting the lesson!
Last night my eldest daughter and I were talking about an event that happened during the period when I was missing and she was lost in the hell of having been abandoned by her mother. When she told me what had happened to her I felt sad and angry. But, I could not change what had happened -- I could only help her deal with the feelings that still reside inside her and help her let them go.
Now, in the past, I would have wanted to get angry. To rail against the individuals involved, to blame them for what had gone wrong -- it's a great way to deflect the light from my accountability, my role in what happened! Truth is, stuff goes wrong every day in life. Things happen for which we don't have a map, or guidebook to tell us how to handle them.
For my daughter, there was no rule book entitled, "10 things to do to make sure you're okay when your mother runs off with a psychopath and deserts you."
I mean really, what woman in her right mind would do that? Oh right, I wasn't in my right mind back then. I was really, really sick.
Now I'm not.
Rather than rail against the past, look at all I did wrong and deflect my anger from me to someone else, I lovingly embraced myself for the wounded abused woman I was, and focussed my energy on my daughter who needed my help.
She needs me. The past doesn't.
Last night when we talked I didn't have the perfect words to say to her. I didn't know what exactly I could do to make it all better for her. I couldn't think of a bandaid big enough to close this wound and so I let her feel her own feelings while I simply sat and loved her.
Sometimes, it is all I can do to encourage her to love herself exactly the way she is.
And that is where we come to letting go of unforgiveness. To let go we must forgive. The past, the people, the places and things that hurt us. We need to unhook the nubs of memory holding us in unforgiveness so that we can move with grace, ease and dignity into today without wrapping ourselves up in the prickly hairshirt of what happened to us as protection against the world around us.
Letting go of unforgiveness leaves me free to flow into today without the burden of other people's words and actions pulling me down.
Letting go of unforgiveness frees me from holding myself locked in the arms of the past where I did not know what I know now. Letting it go lightens my load.
My daughter is a courageous and beautiful young woman. Last night as we chatted she thanked me for having given both her and her sister strong self-esteem. We laughed together, cried together and loved together. I told her how blessed I feel to know that even though they went through hell with me, they didn't end up on the street, doing drugs, drinking, living pain-filled lives because of what had happened to me.
"We had a solid foundation of love," she said.
I agree. I look at my daughters and am in awe of their beauty. They are awesome human beings. I am blessed.
So often we see people acting out and blame the burden of the past on their actions today. Ultimately, it is not the past that makes us do things to hurt ourselves today. It is what we do today in the name of the past that hurts us.
When we choose to carry the pain forward, we walk pain-filled steps. When we choose to let it go, to release the pain so that we can move forward without fear of the past being the story of today leading into a fearful tomorrow, we give ourselves the gift of freedom to be all that we are meant to be.
Letting go to getting on and living it up! is the greatest gift we can present ourselves today.
It takes courage, determination and love. It takes compassion, for ourselves and for everyone in our lives, and it takes the wisdom of knowing this is our one and only life. Holding onto the past keeps our hands busy and our minds encumbered. With our hands and minds filled with yesterday's flotsam we are not free to grab onto the limitless opportunities that present themselves when we look at the day with love-filled eyes and know, This is our one and only life. It's time to live it up!
May you journey through today with a forgiving heart, a peaceful mind and a spirit eager to live it up!
Nameste.
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