Getting real.

Before I met Conrad, the first man I seriously dated after my daughters' father and I split up was SY. He was handsome, dashing, very charming, intelligent, a dreamer and a very devout Catholic. He fell in love with me at first sight he eventually told me. In fact, he'd left the party where I was at because he was terrified by the feelings that swept over him. "I'd probably have asked you to marry me on the spot if I'd stayed," he later said. Given that he was in the process of determining whether or not to join a monastary, that was pretty heady stuff.

I was charmed. And fell in love.

But I was also conscious enough to know I had issues -- and one very serious concern. It was over three years since my marriage had broken up. In that time, I'd hunkered down into my writing and was starting to gain traction. I'd had some success with a couple of projects and wanted to keep pushing them forward. "I know how to be a writer," I told SY one day while talking about my fears. "And, I know how to be in relationship. What I don't know is whether or not I can do the both at the same time."

Three years later, SY and I called it quits. And, I learnt a valuable lesson. Writing and being in relationship are difficult tasks for me to balance at the same time. I met Conrad very shortly thereafter and never had to test my writer's muscle with him. I quit writing as soon as I started falling into the emotional terror of that relationship. Writing is about truth for me, in that relationship, my truth was leeching out and I could not face myself on the written page. I stopped writing.

It's nine years since that first fateful encounter with Conrad. In that time I have ridden the roller coaster of abuse, fallen into the depths of despair, been suicidal and almost lost my life. In that time I have risen above the horror and trauma and pain of the past and stepped with joy and confidence into being all I'm meant to be when I walk freely in the light of my existence. I've been writing -- and I've been fearing writing.

And, I've entered into relationship again.

My fear rises. Can I write and be in relationship?

I'd like to blame not writing on relationship, or having a man in my life but truthfully, not writing is about me blocking myself off from the muse's call. It's about me stepping back from my creativity and closing myself off from the call. Not writing is about me -- and no one else. It's about my fears overriding my courage.

Last night I was supposed to go to dinner and a movie with a girlfriend. She had to cancel at the last minute and I relished an entire evening by myself at home alone. Both girls were out, C.C. and I had plans to meet up later. I had several hours to delve into writing.

Did I write?

Nope. I poured myself a glass of wine, curled up on the couch, pulled out a new book a girlfriend had given me and cracked it open. Now, there is nothing more satisfying than sitting in a pool of lamplight, its golden glow cast upon the the words lined up in symmetrical perfection upon the page. I love sitting in the quiet of the room, the shadows pushed back as I fall into the story unfolding before my eager eyes. I love reading.

Love writing more.

But last night, I didn't write. I didn't take the opportunity to use that time for myself by diving into my own creativity.

Successful people do what other people won't.

Now, I'm not upset that I spent the evening reading -- I loved it. What concerns me is the fact that I know within me is the seed of self-sabotage that has often, in the past, taken root and circumvented my expressing my creative whole.

What's important for me is to be honest, truthful and forthright with myself. To acknowledge that what I did last night wasn't about taking time out to read and relax. It was designed to avoid.

Yup. I was in avoidance mode. I've been treading those murky waters for some time now -- and it's time for me to turn up for myself, get honest, get real and get back on track.

Fear is the opportunity to be courageous.

I fear being in relationship -- not because I fear the other person might hurt me. I am smart enough to know how to keep myself safe and still be vulnerable and open to relationship.

Nope, my fear comes from my knowledge that sometimes, I use relationship as an excuse to not do the things I love. The things that are right for me. The things that bring me joy.

Sometimes, I use relationship (or any host of excuses like being busy, tired, over-worked) for the reason why I'm not committed to my Be. Do. Have to be my most incredible self.

See, I was skirting my writing before C.C. and I entered relational waters. I was already running from my truth.

Time to stop. Take a breath and be real honest with myself.

Time to embrace myself for having the courage to stand up and acknowledge -- I've been cheating on myself.

Time to acknowledge -- this is my one and only life. It's up to me to live it up. It's up to me to get my worth out of the value I create by being all that I am meant to be when I live passionately and fearlessly in love with my very own, one and only life.

The question is: Are you willing to get real with your truth? Are you willing to turn up for you and acknowledge where you might be letting yourself down -- not because of someone else, but rather, because you're afraid of being the most magnificent human being you are? Are you willing to get real?

Time Well Spent

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. It's up to me to make it count.

Today, I have the potential of creating the best day of my life. Or not.

I have the opportunity to make every thought a fresh start, a new perspective, an exciting adventure into the unknown. I can use my thoughts to create, new growth, new ideas, new perspectives. Or, I can let myself regurgitate old thoughts, replaying the film of past experience through worn down corridors of thinking that wear me out with every repetition. I can wearily wear my thoughts clothed in habitual feelings, walk well-trod paths of discomfort that hold me in and keep me back from breaking free into that space that lives beyond the norm.

With each action I take, I have the opportunity to build the foundation for the life of my dreams. Or, I can continue to withhold from myself all that I am meant to be as I journey through all that I was and all I refuse to let go of. It's up to me.

Today, I have the opportunity to expand my horizons by stepping out of my comfort zone beyond the confinement of that place where I hold myself down and keep myself back from spreading my wings and flying free.

Today, I have the choice. This is the first day of the rest of my life. It's up to me to make it my best.

Regardless of what the day has in store, it's up to me to carve my own unique path, to create my most incredible journey. I've got limitless potential exactly the way I am. It's up to me to quit yearning for what isn't here, in the here and now and work with all I've got. I've got a lot.

With all that I've got, it's up to me to quit pulling the threads of 'what was there and then' as my excuse for not being all that I'm meant to be in this moment, here and now, right now.

My life is up to me and I have the possibility to create my most incredible life today. Doesn't mean I'll make a million bucks today, or land that contract of my dreams -- the possibility is there but that's not the point. What's on point today is my being my absolute, total, best. What counts today is that I give my all to everything I do so that at the end of the day I can say, without equivocation, Time Well Spent.

Today is the time that counts for me. This is the moment that creates the springboard to the next. It's up to me to fill it full of my personal best so that I can end today, and every day from now on, with a calm assured breath that I have done my best. Given my all. Been my most magnificent self. That is the measure of my success today.

The question is: What will you choose today? To create new thoughts or travel worn paths of familiarity? Are you willing to create a new perspective, look at a further horizon and see you've got it in you to live the best day of your life today?

For those I love

I had to give an early morning talk about homelessness to a group of Calgary business men and women today.

It was dark when I left home. Everyone else was sleeping as I quietly closed the front door and stepped into the morning. The thought went through my mind as I turned the key in the lock that the most important beings in my life are on the other side of that door. Close it lovingly.

Some days, racing from home to work, from meeting to meeting, cramming in just one more task, I forget what's most important.

The people I love and who love me.

Some days, as I whip from one quadrant of the city to the other, whip into the grocery store, whip home to whip up a quick dinner, I forget why I'm whipping about and lose myself in the speed with which I am moving, rather than focusing on the things that move me.

As I closed the door and set out into my day this morning, I took a moment's grace to think about those I love sleeping on the other side of the door.

I smiled. The morning felt warmer, brighter. My day looked rosier.

With thoughts of love spilling into my morning, I drove away with gratitude filling my heart.

The question is: Have you taken time today to think about those you love? Have you let your heart fill-up with gratitude?

Perfectly perfect in all my imperfections

Life continually delivers up opportunities to grow, to learn, to shift my perceptions, to experience new things, to embrace new ideas, to let go and let change happen.

Yesterday, I stayed late at the office trying to get our newsletter put together so that I can take time off next month to go out to Vancouver and finish writing a cookbook I've been hired to produce for a restauranteur.

It was dark by the time I got home, but the house was lit and welcoming. C.C. had come over earlier to feed the dogs and when I entered he was busy hanging the toilet paper roll holder in the bathroom. The old one had fallen off some time ago and I had not gotten around to replacing it. A delicious aroma of food cooking permeated the air and on the stove a stir fry simmered. The dogs raced to the door to greet me, C.C. gave me a welcoming kiss and I had nothing to do but come in, take off my coat and sit down to a delightful dinner.

I mean, what could be more perfect, a handyman and a chef all in one waiting for my home-coming!

Some experiences are so delicious they need to be savoured slowly. After dinner I took the dogs for a walk while C.C. listened to the hockey game on the radio and then left to go play a game of his own.

Coming home to a man who is doing things for me is a unique experience. I am generally the doer. The one who tries to cram everything in, continually taking care of what needs to be done so that others can enjoy their time. To have someone do that for me is a new experience. A new sensation.

And sometimes, that can be scary.

Consciously, I know the past is not the future -- unless I make it so. My subconscious, however, doesn't always keep time with my heart beat in the moment. Sometimes, my inner voice, that beast inside who gets scared when I step out of the narrow corridors of its comfort zone, whispers disruptive comments like, "Uh. Uh. And why is he doing that? What's he want? Don't trust this sensation. You've never experienced it before. It can't be trusted." Sometimes, the beast can be even more strident, blaring alerts like a submarine warning sailors about its imminent dive. "Alert! Alert! Batten down the hatches. Hang on. Get your head down. We're going under! These waters are too dangerous."

Sometimes, there's a lag between what my mind perceives and my heart knows. I know, that was then, this is now, but my subconscious is still terrified of having the past repeat itself as it perceives me to be busy daydreaming about a different future. Like a soldier who has come back from war with hyper-sensitive responses to any sudden sound or noise, my senses are on hyper-alert, continuously scanning the horizon for signs of disorder and disruptive behaviours that may or may not be a precursor to danger.

I breathe.

Sometimes, things are exactly as they seem. So are people.

I have known C.C. for three years. In that time he has always been a kind, caring, thoughtful, honest and honourable man.

How I perceive him to be is how he is.

My fear is not of him. It is of me. Of trusting in myself, and my feelings. Of trusting that I am safe within me. Of knowing that no matter what in the world happens, I can trust myself to listen to my intuition, to be confident in my heartbeat and know it beats steady, sure and true because I am always safe within me.

That was then. This is now.

In the past, I did not know what I know today about me. About who I am. About how I am. My hungry heart drove me places I dared not go, but went anyway.

Today, my heart is full. Today, I love myself, exactly the way I am and accept myself, warts and all, as the perfectly awesome human being that I am, because the truth is, I am perfect in all my imperfections.

Long ago, my fear of never being enough, of never having enough, left me exposed to the attentions of those who were untrue.

Today, my courage keeps me breathing freely as I step surely and confidently into unknown territory. My fear is the opportunity to be courageous. My courage is the gift of love I give myself when I open myself up to having all that I want, and all that I deserve in love and life and living freely.

The question is: Are you willing to let go of 'what was then' so that you can step into 'what is now' without fear of the past haunting you. Are you willing to let go of what someone did back then and step into the truth that you are capable of doing what is right and true and loving for you right now?

Spheres of influence and other orbits

Darkness lingers in the morning later and later. Winter hides around the corner, yet, for today, the temperature will remain higher than normal. Last week's snow has melted. Autumn leaves litter the ground. The world continues to turn.

Long ago I tried to to demonstrate orbital paths of the planets to my youngest daughter. I picked up a grapefruit in one hand and an orange in the other. "This is the earth," I said, holding the orange up high in my right hand. "And this is the sun," I said placing the grapefruit a couple of feet away in my left hand. And then, I began to rotate the grapefruit around the orange which I held steady in my right hand.

"Uh, mum," my eldest daughter quickly interjected. "The earth revolves around the sun. The sun never moves."

"Ooops," I laughed, quickly reversing the rotational process. "You're right."

Sometimes, I don't get everything right. Sometimes, I make mistakes. (Just ask my daughters!)

Making mistakes is not the end of the world, though, had Alexis not corrected my orbital disaster-in-the-making it might have put an end to her sister's passing grade in Science that year. Making mistakes is human. It's part of learning. If I do everything perfectly, then I'm not learning how to do it, I'm simply doing it.

Yesterday I started working on my recap of the event I helped organize from last week. I had met with the Exec. Dir. and administrator to discuss the event earlier in the morning. Seven pages later I had a series of recommendations for next year that will ensure the event is more successful than this year's. It's part of learning -- not necessarily from mistakes, but from what went well and looking at ways to turn it into something even better.

That's hard. I'd like to think the event was perfect -- it wasn't! We didn't raise as much as we'd hoped. There were weaknesses in the format.

I know the weaknesses. I can see them, yet, so often, it's easier to just become defensive. To block out criticism and entrench myself in, "What do they know,"

"What do they know," thinking does not get me more of what I want in my life. It does not make me a more competent, empowered and effective human being. It doesn't reflect my greatness. It only speaks to my potential to think small.

Something I am learning to embrace is the fact that no one has all the answers -- even if they tell me they do. We each have a portion of the answers, parts of the equation, segments of the total picture as perceived from our vantage point, our perspective, the sum of which I determine in my own life. It's up to me to create the value from the world around me.

Like the earth revolving around the sun. Every day brings night. Every night leads to morning. There is nothing I can do to change the earth's orbit -- even with an orange and a grapefruit. There is tons I can do to effect change in the orbit of my own little world. Tons of different steps I can take today that will create greater value from what I learned, what I did, what I experienced yesterday.

In writing up the recommendations for next year's event, I had to let go of my ego and look at the greater whole. What were we trying to achieve? What is the purpose of the event? Did we reach 100% effectiveness this year? Where did we go off target? Where was the focus of our attention off kilter? Where did we pull out of orbit with the intention of what we were trying to do and careen into another idea floating in someone else's orbital path?

Alexander Graham Bell said, "Concentrate all your thoughts on the task at hand. The sun's rays do not burn until brought to a focus."

To be a better person. To be the best person I can be, I need to focus my thoughts on doing the best I can in every moment. I need to burn through my self-defences, my fears, my self-defeating games, my inhibitions, and let my light shine on the task at hand -- being all that I am meant to be.

Sometimes, I make mistakes. Sometimes, I take my focus off the task at hand and get busy carving a path through someone else's orbit, on someone else's plane of influence believing that if I can effect what they're doing, I'll do what I'm doing better.

It never happens.

To be the best me I can be, I need to keep my focus on what I'm doing and let the distractions, the meteorites of ego-propelled interference pass me by. I need to stay focused on creating a sphere of influence that reflects my purpose and passion. I need to stand in my own light.

The question is: Are you standing in your own light creating a brilliant sphere of influence that is a reflection of the best that you can be?

Ending with love and forgiveness

I am always amazed when I awaken and sit down to write this that words actually do appear on the screen! It really is a miracle some mornings as my mind feels as if it doesn't contain a single thought worth sharing -- that's the thing about trusting in the process. As long as I sit down to do this, the words will appear. If I don't, they won't.

Like love. When I turn up, love appears. When I don't, it can't -- doesn't mean it isn't there, love is always there. It just means that when I'm busy protecting myself, holding myself back, looking elsewhere, I'm not available to feel its power to move me, shift me and expand my world.

Yesterday, my eldest sister called to tell me about her visit with my two nieces last week. We haven't had a great deal of contact since my brother and his wife died in an accident nine years ago. In fact, my eldest niece has had no contact with our family at all, and my younger niece, who just turned 29, has visited once. For the longest time we didn't even know where they were as they terminated all contact with both sides of their parents' families.

Very sad. They were just 17 and 18 when their parents died. Under normal circumstances, that would be a devastating event, in the case of my brother and sister-in-law, there were other factors involved that weighed heavily on my nieces as they were, by law, adults, and could not be shielded from the harshness of the circumstances preceding the accident and some of the legal issues that needed to be dealt with afterwards. The trauma and pain must have been overwhelming to them.

Which brings me right back to where I need to be, standing with a forgiving heart in the love that has been always there, even when it was hidden behind my anger, confusion and fear.

I remember at the time of the accident, my mother was overwhelmed with grief. We all were. Unfortunately, my mother has never been adept at handling reality, and the passing of her only son, so shortly after her husband of fifty-two years had died was debilitating. My two sisters and I were hard pressed to focus on my nieces given our concern for my mother's health. Add into the mix my sister-in-law's family's behaviour and all the other drama that was going on around the time of the accident, there was little energy left to focus on my nieces.

And that is where I need to forgive myself.

I wasn't there for them. In focusing on my mother, in letting her needs override the needs of these young women, I didn't do anything at the time to help them. I didn't turn up for them to help soothe their fears and tears, to be there as a pillar of loving, calm strength.

I know that was not intentional on my part, nor on the part of my sisters, but, to my nieces, it was devastating to have to deal with the after-shock of their parents' death without the steady, calm presence of their aunts who loved them and had always been there for them.

In re-writing history, there are so many things I could have done differently. In knowing what I know now, I could have quit playing my self-defeating games like: Hiding behind judgements; Blaming; Getting them before they got me; Criticizing and condemning.

Instead, I could have turned up in love with an open heart and listened to my own words and lived by them -- At the funeral, when my eldest niece told me she did not want to talk to my mother because she believed he'd had a heart attack while driving because he'd fought with my mother and was really, really upset, I had replied, "You mother and father would only want to leave you with love. They would not want you to carry their anger, their fears. They would not want you to have anything except love, it's all we can leave behind when we leave this world." I could have held true to my belief and turned to the limitless power of love to heal broken hearts and troubled spirits.

I could have held onto the love my brother and sister-in-law left behind as their legacy.

Re-writing history, however, is futile. There is though, lots I can do today to create a loving change in our relationship. Before we can build forward I must acknowledge how I let them down. I can apologize for my behaviour back then and commit to making amends now. I can turn up in love and ask for their forgiveness.

When I know better, I do better. Back then, I was caught up in the drama of what was going on and lost focus of what was important, what was the right thing to do. There was so much more I could have done.

Back then, I believed it had all ended badly. Anything that ends badly isn't over yet. In reaching out to my nieces, in sharing her story of what happened with them, my sister has awakened me to the truth that everything is meant to end well, it's the way of the universe.

I can't change what happened to put an end to all contact with my nieces, but I can affect what happens today so that we can build a loving, caring relationship into tomorrow. I can take responsibility for what I did back then that hurt them, and help my nieces heal today by acknowledging that once upon a time, I wasn't there for them. I can be there for them today, in love.

The question is: Where do you hold onto pain and anger and ignore the love that is waiting to embrace you? Where are you stuck in believing you got a 'bad ending' and hold yourself back from finding the ending that will leave you filled with love and forgiveness?

Forgiveness and grieving

I am always amazed at how emotions ebb and flow, rise and fall. Not that I should be. I mean, emotions just are. They're there. Part of me. They don't make me who I am, but they sure can affect how I am, how I encounter the world, how I move through my days.

These past couple of weeks have reminded me that my emotions can sometimes get out of sorts with my reality. That I need to continuously take a break and breathe, breathe, breathe.

At Choices a couple of weeks ago, Thelma Box, the founder, said something in one of the sessions that reverberated throughout my being. I'm not going to repeat what she said simply because it isn't her words that count, it's how I responded. I felt tears prick the back of my eyes, sadness permeate my being. I left the room so that I could collect myself without disturbing the group and later spoke with Thelma one on one.

"My father died 12 years ago," I told her. "Today is the first time I allowed myself to miss him."

"For some of us," she replied, "grief takes longer to work its way to the surface."

I've never grieved my father. Never let myself acknowledge that regardless of what he'd done, I love him and miss him. He was an angry man. He was also a poet. A silent, thoughtful man who in between his outbursts loved to entertain, to take long walks, to cook and to read.

For most of my life I have worked at forgiving my father for not loving me. What I heard that day from Thelma was, my father always loved me, even when some of the things he did were not very loving. They were to him, an act of love for he could only love me in the only way he knew how, in relation to how much he loved himself and had been loved in his life.

What I realized that day was, I was forgiving my father for the wrong thing. He always loved me. Forgiveness needs to focus on what he did that I carry today as the scars that hurt me and keep me from embracing the beauty of my life today.

Twelve years ago, I thought it was over. I convinced myself that some things just don't end well, and one of them was my relationship with my father. But, in this universe of abundance, in this place where love is and all things end well, even when they appear not to, it's because they're not over yet. In accepting my father loved me, the pain and sorrow die and the story ends well today. I forgive and I grieve.

A big shift. In my understanding of his love, I can let go of the anger as I step with joy and a peaceful, forgiving heart into love. My father loved me in the only way he knew how, and today, I love myself in the best way I can -- with acceptance of all of me, beauty and the beast as I move with grace, ease and dignity through love. Today, I grieve the loss of my father, the man who planted the seed that became the beauty of my life today.

The question is: What sad endings are you hanging onto in the belief the story didn't end well? Where are you refusing to see, it's just not over yet because all things end well. It's the way of the world.