Dying to Live, Living to Die

What is it that we are afraid of most in living life?

What is it that we are afraid of most in dying?

These two questions seem unrelated, but recently, thanks to a daily meditation in Mark Nepo's The Book of Awakening, I was able to consider how profoundly interrelated and intertwined these two questions are. Before reading on, take a moment to reflect and answer each one individually.

For me, the answer to these questions wasn't hard to determine. My greatest fear in life is not being good enough; not measuring up, not being enough, or not fulfilling someone's expectations. The crazy thing is that I know that I have value and worth, but time and time again I find this fear creeping up on me. Who, where, and when this arises from is something I'm still working on, but I suspect I know already. But that, my dear reader, will be fodder for a future post!

As for what I fear most in dying—something that, although I am young and healthy and have no plans of leaving this earth soon, is also easy—I am terrified that I will leave my loved ones behind and that they will be devastated and unable to manage or fill the void. I fear that I will not have left behind a legacy that will allow my loved ones to move forward with power, conviction, kindness, empathy, and creativity. In particular, this fear is most greatly tied to leaving my daughters behind when it's time for me to go. Why I have this fear is not something I'm too aware of—of course any daughter would miss her mother upon her passing, but why this fear of inadquately equipping them to be on their own one day is one that tugs at my heart, I am unsure.

As for why these two questions matter, well, that's where things get interesting. What if I told you that these seemingly unrelated questions are, in fact, pointing us in the same direction?

Just take a good look at my response (or perhaps you may be feeling brave enough to look at your own). What is it that the two responses have in common? For me, the word that binds my fear in life and my fear in death is inadequacy.

Crazy.

They are one and the same.

What now?

What if, instead of living with this fear in life and in death, we just let it go? Can you imagine what life would feel like without this greatest fear? What would my life look like if I were to leave the fear of inadequacy behind? Or if not leave it behind, at least wear it like a loose-fitting garment instead of a second skin? How liberating!

For me, even just the mere thought of living without the fear of inadequacy lifts a weight I didn't even know I had off my soul.

What a transformative thought.

What is the common thread between your fears? Can you pull at the string and unravel some of the tightness and suffocation of living with it?

Dare to live in freedom from fear. Dare to confront it. Dare to live more fully. Dare to enter a new way of living and dying. Fully and completely.

Don't just live to die.

The Greek Myth Rewritten

There are so many texts these days that reimagine history or retell a story to give a voice to the voiceless, to challenge the dominant narrative, and to present an alternative version of what was—one that is, in many ways, far more satisfying than the original.

This past month, I had the great pleasure of teaching Madeline Miller’s Circe, a retelling of the great witch from Greek mythology herself. We get to see her in a different light. We come to understand her motivations, feel what she feels, and realize she is not the monster we thought she was. She, in her god-like form, is humanized, and it becomes clear by the end of the story that if we let go of control and let love in, we can finally be at peace.

I need my own retelling of the Greek myth that was this past summer. The Greek myth of spending one month on the islands as a dream come true, the proverbial destination to cross off my bucket list. This was my expectation, but it was certainly not the experience I just had. I was blindsided by feeling left out, rejected, and not enough. My dream of being on the Greek islands became a nightmare of loneliness, even though I kept myself company the whole time.

So, while I was technically not alone, it was one of the most isolating experiences of my life. I couldn’t escape the colleagues who simply weren’t my people. But I don’t want to give them power over my experience. They robbed me of the friendship I was willingly offering, but I will not allow them to take any more than that.

Like Circe, I need to rewrite my story and reclaim this experience. So, here it goes.

Greece was prefaced with a journey through Lisbon, Portugal, and S. Miguel, Açores—lands of my family, culture, history, and, let’s not forget, food. These are a part of me and touched me deeply. There were profound moments of both joy and sorrow as I reunited with family, friends, and the land. I was moved to tears many times. I love this place so much. This part of my history has shaped who I am today. Sadly, it had been so long since I last visited that I felt a sense of loss for not having been there and participating in that world for the last 10 years. I also had a reawakening of a part of me that had otherwise lain dormant. You see, I was not born there and technically never lived there, yet I have a life and history that are so much a part of me. This connection is one that feeds my soul in so many ways. This visit, as emotional as it was, reminded me of how important this part of my life is and that I cannot wait for “the right time” to be a part of it. I was reminded that I need to visit regularly to continue forging that connection. Otherwise, there is a part of me I am not taking care of: my alma Açoriana.

During this trip, I was rarely alone. My family and friends surrounded me with their love, joy, hospitality, and kindness. What a gorgeous way to start the summer!

From Portugal, I returned to Toronto only to leave a few days later for Greece. Washed, packed, and ready to see it all, I approached Greece with an open heart and mind. I had plenty of space to make friends and make the most of each day. Little did I know, I would instead be making space for myself, for following my heart, for being true to myself, and for not compromising who I am just to fit in. Like it or not, I am not a puppy who will follow others mindlessly.

Although I had been to Greece before, this was a trip to the islands—we started in Athens and felt the intense heat and baked in the sun. We saw the Acropolis and appreciated the gorgeous scenery (and the not-so-gorgeous derelict buildings covered in graffiti). We meowed at the cats and basked in the juxtaposition of old versus new. It was a city worth reacquainting with, and the al fresco dinners were a welcome and familiar part of the summer and the dolce vita.

In Syros, we were in a paradise. My spacious hotel room was nestled in the mountains with a balcony that overlooked the mountains and the bay. I couldn’t believe this is where I got to work. The sand sparkled, and the crystal-clear turquoise water washed over me. Newly baptized in the warm and briny seawater, I watched the sunrise from my balcony and planned my lessons—the most beautiful office view. How lucky I am to be a part of this. I stretched and did yoga as Helios drove his chariot forward. I chose beach, sun, sand, pool, and lounging spaces that spoke to me. I ate all the things. I worked my way into the hearts of some of those around me. I luxuriated on the rooftop patios of Ermoupoli, far from students’ view. And most memorable, I traveled to St. Stephen’s Church in a cave by the ocean with a colleague with a heart of gold—a hike that allowed us to test our limits, make friends with two French models, and left us dizzy by the end. What an adventure!

In Tinos, we were blown away—quite literally, actually. It was there at Aeolus Bay that we felt the power of the wind in Odysseus’s bag; we were blown off course. But not before we climbed to the remnants of the castle at Exomvourgo, again, challenging ourselves to reach new heights. We strolled the windy pedestrian streets of Volax and Pyrgos and made a small pilgrimage to the Holy Church of the Virgin Mary to give our thanks for this beautiful life we get to live. Life is short, and I lit a candle to bless all those I love so dearly.

We pivoted back to Athens for a day to reorient ourselves with the wind and eventually get back on course to Crete. My 6 km self-directed hike through the city of Athens brought me closer to the city and helped me feel settled there. This is also where I discovered my favorite place in Athens: the National Botanical Gardens.

On Crete, I finally found my perfect fit. Heraklion was designed with me in mind—the perfect combination of pedestrian-friendly old city streets perfect for strolling and getting lost in, port-side views, bustling nightlife, and nearby stretches of kilometers of beach. The water was wilder here but still warm and inviting, and I lay there under a Cyprus tree appreciating the breeze as it caressed my skin and the sun as it kissed my forehead. This was a place where I could feel at home. Where I could, if given the chance, build a life and start over again. Finally, of all the paradise islands, this was a place where I felt truly at home, where sea, sky, and greenery surrounded me and fed my soul. After weeks of sea-side and arid landscapes, Crete was like home and restored me.

It was also on Crete that I celebrated my 19th wedding anniversary on a long-distance date with my husband. He, I could see, would have loved to have been there with me, so I included him in photos, videos, and FaceTime calls. And when he was no longer able to keep me company online, I reached out to family and friends. They kept me company all night long. It was the happiest and most fulfilled I had felt in weeks. Thanks to their long-distance love, it was a wonderful evening.

Our last stop was back in Athens—a place where I got to spend a few last days in my own company, appreciating myself and giving myself what I needed. I ran the streets and revisited the Botanical Gardens. I followed each whim and turned at each street that called to me. I was completely in tune with my inner musings. On a carefully selected bench, I luxuriated with a book, listening to the orchestra of cicadas in the National Botanical Gardens. The dappled light and gentle breeze kept me cool. The book I was reading kept me company for as long as I wanted being as quiet or as noisy as I wanted. There was a magic living in that garden—one that canceled all the madness of the sprawling city of Athens. One that made me feel like this is where I belong.

Did I LOVE this trip? No. It was often very difficult as I was faced with the task of being my own best friend, of being okay in my own company, and of accepting that I will not compromise myself just to fit in. I would have loved to have made a friend, or, at the very least, to feel appreciated. But I cannot control others. I can only control myself.

Here’s the thing: you can be in your dream destination but no matter where you are, what matters most is how you feel about it. For me, even though I was living a dream, I was often miserable.  If it weren’t for the text messages and the FaceTime calls with my family and friends, I would have spiralled into a depression. It was so lonely and isolating that it took a good week to undo the damage those lonesome times created. But I don't want to give that part of the story any more power over me than it has already had.  This is after all, a rewriting of history.

This trip has taught me that it doesn’t matter how beautiful and sparkling the sand is. If you don’t have someone to share it with, it is meaningless. And, I suppose, the greater lesson is that even though I am an independent and self-sufficient woman, I’m still working on being completely peaceful and calm with my own company. I am enough.  My company is excellent.  I know exactly what I like and don’t like.  I am considerate of my own needs.  I am amazing.

My happiness does not need to be tied up with who I take on my journey. As long as I am with myself, I can let go of others and be at peace.

So Greece will be my story of exile and finding myself. I was Circe, spinning my magic on my own, creating memories with myself, and remembering the sun on my skin and the salt on my lips. Yes, I had the occasional company and friend.  But really, it was a journey for me to find myself. 

That is the rewritten version of my history that I will speak forward from this moment on.

A Love Letter to the Man on the Moon: #5 Seeing the Dawn

 

“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”

― Oscar Wilde

For all the years I've stared at the moon, holding a love for you shrouded in secrecy, I am finally arriving at a conclusion about what we were.

I have always been, and remain, drawn to you. You are a comfort I cannot explain, an inescapable pull. But the closer I got, the harder I stared at what was real and what was imagined, the more I saw the dawn breaking.

We are the city mouse and the country mouse. Your world, even with a space for me, would always be too small. I cannot fit, and I will not change my form. There was a future full of possibility for us, but, although I didn’t know how to tell you then, I now can say that I simply cannot exist on your planet without a piece of me dying.  While I may not be able to breathe without you, I know I cannot truly thrive in your world. 

I don't know that I can ever fully let you go, but I also know I can't take all of you with me.  So instead I will take you with me by leaving you behind. 

Your intoxicating effect is something I cannot fully release. My soulmate, my first true love—I promised you my heart forever, and that promise still stands. But in the end, I chose not to build a life with you because I saw the dawn breaking. To save our love, I walked away, allowing it to continue to exist in dreams and longing rather than facing a future I knew I could not survive. A future where I wouldn't fit. A life where I would be trapped and suffocate.

But perhaps there is a different future. One that has yet to transpire where we reunite, even if only for a season and hold each other close once again. I can see it now; we travel the galaxy seeing all of the places we’ve only dreamed of, both of us old and gray and spent from the lives we have chosen. But holding on strong, hand in hand we lie on the sand, together once again looking into the eyes of our one certain love.

A Love Letter to the Man on the Moon: #4 The Enduring Immutable Bond

 I live with a heart divided. Here on earth I have made my place, made my choice and devoted my life.  Yet a tiny string spans across the universe and keeps me connected to you.

My heart, although it has tried to let go, clings to you.  To the dreams that I have weaved about you.  To the possibilities for us that never were.  To hopes that I cannot let go of.

It doesn’t matter how far away you are because I have a piece of you that I carry with me.  A small stone that sits heavy in the bottom of my heart.  Just like that small cognac coloured leather pouch with one single curl from your head.  You are a character in the backdrop of my life story.

I hope you don’t mind how close I keep you.  After all, I have tried to cast you away and yet time and gain you someone wash up upon my shore.  So instead I have learned to keep you buried deep within my heart.  A safe haven for my deepest longing and desires. 

And although we have created completely separate lives, it is strange to me how we have remained bonded and bound to one another for an eternity; a promise ring that lies hidden in a box.

Is it wrong to stay tethered?

Does having you in my life make the hard times better or will it slowly drive me mad?  Does my presence make it impossible for you to find joy in the life you have chosen?

Or is it right to hang onto the comfort that you bring?  

Isn’t the comfort of knowing that you’re there worth it?  No one else makes me feel as special as you do.  I hope I’m not being selfish.

If only I knew what to make of the soothing torture of this enduring immutable bond.

A Love Letter to the Man on the Moon: #3 Worlds Apart

Our lives have run in parallel from the time I was 14. We are the sun and the moon chasing each other like fools. We keep circling one another year after year but are always so far apart.

Every once in a while our paths converge and we hold each other in an embrace. At that moment my world goes dark and it’s like I’ve disappeared for a moment. I tell you how much I miss you and then we part once again so that my light can shine once more here on earth.

In the absence of you, I picture myself floating to you in my mind.

Countless times I have traveled to an imaginary world where we could be together in a way that doesn’t leave my world dark. Where you could hold me dearly in your arms and stare lovingly into my eyes. Where I could bring you my rainbow and fill your soul with joy. Where we could love one another unconditionally. Where I could feel wanted and cherished every day.

To this end, I summon your face at night, reliving scenes from our past and moments that never were; moments shared that transcend physical presence. I live in a strange duplicity: the life I live in my body and the one I live in my mind.

When I once had you in my arms we lay next to one another—you with your arms wrapped around my middle, gently feeling my stomach while dreaming of our unborn children. How strange that was for me. At the time I lacked the words to say it, but I was not ready to receive the love you were ready and willing to give to me.

So I pushed you away. Like I always do, I faded away, taking with me the spectrum of colours that lit up your world.

Did I leave you living in the grey? Is that the source of you unhappiness?

Or, does the thought of me living on another planet brighten your day as thoughts of you continue to illuminate mine?

Oh, Man on the Moon, how long will we be worlds apart, still gazing longingly into each other’s eyes from across the cosmos? 

Only the sands of time will tell.

A Love Letter to the Man on the Moon: #2 Imagined Reality

Not many people know you exist. It’s not surprising, as few have traveled to your lands and even fewer know about you. But I’ve had years to get to know you and have carefully studied your ways. And strangely, even though we first met so long ago, it has taken me a long time to figure you out, as you are not what you appear to be.

In the simplest terms, you are tall, brooding, and philosophical to the core. You are musical, romantic, and a true naturalist. You are one of the most altruistic, optimistic, and loyal people that I’ve ever met. You like the simple pleasures of life: the quiet, the tranquil, the solitary. I realize now that you are the country mouse.

The most challenging thing about you is that you are dedicated to those you love—sometimes to a fault. Your love runs deep and true. Whenever I need you, I can conjure you up and you are there in an instant, lending me a sympathetic ear. You hold me in your gentle embrace and speak soothing words that are a balm to the ache that would otherwise keep me up at night. For me, you are an unending column of watery love and acceptance that overflows. 

No one else in this galaxy makes me feel as seen and as special as you do.

You like to yell, “Carpe Diem,” but I know it's a ruse. The truth is that you are exhausted—exhausted from putting everything and everyone else first. You keep busy helping others and doing the right thing as a method of distraction because, secretly, you are unhappy. Your heart beats to the drum of “the best which is yet to come”. But just below the surface, I feel the pulse of your hurt, your regret, and your loneliness.

Did you know that when I’m most lonely, you are able to come to me in my sleep? We lie together in the grass, sand tickling between our toes. We are swaddled in purple, and when you look at me, everything stops. All my worries vanish, and all we have is that very moment. That peacefulness that pauses the world and silences my thoughts. 

You have a magical power that makes the world stops spinning.

You are a warm light. A beacon in the sky. A gentle caress. A loving smile. I can feel your touch and remember your kisses. 

How can this be when we are always worlds apart?

You say I am your rainbow, but rainbows are just beautiful optical illusions. When the dream state is over and we open our eyes, what will we see? 

I am not who you think I am, and you are merely a version of who I dream you could be.

The truth is, you’ve always buried yourself deep within. You are a house that’s all locked up. I have tried to break in. I even cut myself a key—but there is no use. You’ve tried to open the door to let me in, but that latch won’t release. I can’t get in because you are unable to escape the shackles of your mind. When you speak your truth from behind the door, the air from your planet leaves you breathless and mute. There are even moments when the green of your eyes turns molten and you become completely unreachable—a vacant statue held captive by your own inner darkness.

That is when I realize our connection is unstable. 

When I realize that our distant and improbable relationship is insurmountable—too much for me to handle. And yet I am drawn to you. There is some inexplicable force. I can’t let go. It’s like the pull of the ocean, a tide that sweeps me toward you no matter how hard I try to swim away from the swell of the waves. It is exhilarating and also unsafe. The tide turns me in different directions against my will; like a magnet, sometimes I’m drawn in, and sometimes I’m repelled.

But the truth is that there is no reality; there is only my perception. My dreamlike projection of our past, present, and future. 

My imagined reality of who you are and what I’ve always envisioned we could be.

If only you were real.

A Love Letter to the Man on the Moon: Letter #1 Ache and Distance

In the depths of my mind I harbor a hidden truth; a love for the man on the moon. This secret romance was born of innocent flirtation and turned into a lifelong romance of imagined conversations and invisible interactions. A romance of ache and distance. Of blues and greens, of raging seas, endless longings and what ifs.

I know.

It’s too bizarre.

Too unlikely.

Too distant to be real.

But if I’m being honest (which I haven’t always been able to do—not to myself and certainly not to others) I’ve kept this love buried deep inside. Not acknowledging it or understanding it fully.

All these years later I recognize that this romance is based on something absolutely real and yet is conjured on the repeating idea of what might have been. It is complicated by distance—living on two different planets tends to make being together impossible. I know that speaking two different languages complicates things too; after all, too much gets lost in translation. Although we are far apart, we are always connected by the light of the moon.

We live our own separate lives, making space in the gaps and silences. He haunts my dreams. I am an apparition in the people he meets while roaming the streets. Although there is space in my heart for him, there is nowhere for us to exist together.

His face appears during my loneliest moments and I bury myself in his embrace as I crush my face into the pillow.

Moonlight lights up our connection across the sands of time as I gaze longingly into the night sky, wondering, for the millionth time, if he’s gazing back at me.

32 Years of Iris and Lotus

This is the tale of Iris and Lotus, and their thirty-two years. Together they live on separatea planets, connected across space and time, yet somehow always miles apart. They exist in a deep-rooted state of longing that neither will admit to the other.

Poor Iris.

She has spent a lifetime searching the sky for a glimpse of the ever-changing moon that has always connected her to him. Although she has built a beautiful life for herself, she secretly dreams of one on a different planet—a life where she can be with Lotus, where she can let his love wash over her and keep her in a dream-like state. There, she can forget her reality and reimagine herself anew.

Will she ever stop feeling the intoxication of his love? The addiction that overtakes her when she bites into the inebriating fruit of his presence?

Poor Lotus.

He longs for Iris—his one true love. Her words are a soothing balm and carry a wisdom that connects him to a higher power. He grasps for her rainbow and dreams of the feeling of her lips on his, the familiar taste of her mouth. Although he has built a beautiful life for himself, he is secretly unhappy, and would change so much if he could. For, like Iris, he chose a certain life instead of a certain love.

Will he ever realize that Iris is nothing more than a passing illusion? That beyond her beauty is an ever changing wind that will blow her away and leave him longing to see her again?

Thirty-two years and counting.

She remains moored on the island of his love while the idea of him lives rent-free in the corners of her mind. It is all because they chose a certain life instead of a certain love.

Beyond the Perfect Exterior

I'm sorry if I'm not who you thought I was.

I used to appear strong, but now you see my Achilles' heel. Will you use that against me, or will you choose empathy?

Will you look beyond the shiny exterior to see that all I ever want is to be loved and accepted for who I am?

Because that is all anyone ever truly wants.

To be loved. To belong.

Every day, I make a choice. I choose to work hard, to be positive, to do the right thing. I choose to be a rule follower. I choose to move my body, to eat green things, to drink water. I choose a book instead of a screen. I choose what's right for me, even when it isn't the popular choice.

I choose confidence. I choose to make a difference. I choose to love. I choose kindness. I choose hope. I choose to be invincible.

I choose to belong to me. I am my own perfect tribe.

I make these choices actively, every single day.

Without them, self-doubt would set in. The constant worry that I’m not enough, and the deep-rooted need to be wanted and to belong, would overshadow the light that shines within me.

It may seem like everything is perfect, but it isn't.

So look beyond who you think I am and realize that you, too, have a choice.

Summer of Love

This has been a summer of romance.  Not literal and perhaps not even literary if you consider the trashy books I've been reading of late.  But written well or not, it's romance nonetheless.  

I've roamed the streets of Europe in love with life, beauty and being in the moment.  Transported myself to times when I was only responsible for myself.  I've explored passions deeper than what real life has to offer by traveling through someone else's narrative book after spicy book.

All this time to revel in romance has given me time to think about myself.  Who am I really?  

Reflecting on Tessa Bailey's "Secretly Yours" and Pablo Neruda's poetry, I have spent time questioning my true self, the impact of societal expectations, and the choices made in silence.

Can one live a fulfilling life without expressing deep, sincere feelings?

The novel prompts thoughts on adult responsibilities distracting from meaningful pursuits, and the uncertainty of expectations versus reality. Fate, unpredictable, sometimes brings unexpected gifts, challenging our planned narratives.

In the solitude of travel (both literal and literary) I have grown a new ability to sit in silence in search of self-awareness. I wonder if this silence is a sign of contentment or overwhelm? Bailey's passage citing the, "Chivalrous hero that lived rent-free in her memory," resonates, as does the notion of life unfolding differently from expectations.

Pablo Neruda's sonnet XVII raises questions about living authentically, and I ponder the consequences of not listening to one's inner voice.

Life's unpredictability is encapsulated in the idea that fate keeps its own schedule, sometimes surprising us with unexpected presents.

What is yet to come?

Where will I travel next?

Who will join me on this journey?

I'm not as invisible as the world would have me think I am.

I still have lots of life to live and many summers of love ahead of me.

45+20+2+1 = Infinite Potential

I've learned (perhaps a little too late in life) that making myself small extinguishes my greatness.  I need space to shine.  I need fresh air to breathe and a sunny blue sky to cleanse my soul.  I need space where I can fully embody all that my amazing body and mind has to offer.  

Don't get me wrong.  

I am not full of myself.  

I am not egotistical.  

I am not narcissistic.  

But I AM AMAZING.  

Why?  Because one day I decided to be. 

And now, each and every day I make a conscious decision, a concerted effort if you will, to be my best self.  To connect every aspect of my life with my values.  To live a life that brings me joy, feels meaningful, and makes an impact.  I make self care a daily activity and I place myself where I want to be.  The result? That I radiate the infinite potential that is within me.  

Don't get me wrong.  This task is not always easy.  It is a daily choice. It sometimes feels like real work.  And there are days when I can lose sight of it.  Especially when life throws me a curveball, it can momentarily steer me off course.  But I persevere unapologetically. 

Be skeptical if you want. Or even suspicious.

But I will not apologize for being self confident.  For building a life that I love and am proud of.  I will not apologize for finding meaningful work in what I do.  For having energy to keep going while making an impact.  I will not apologize for prioritizing my mental and physical health.  For continually seeking to be the best version of myself each and every day.  

For all this hard work has paid off.  

I take good care of myself so that I can take good care of others.

So that I can be a great teacher, mentor, mother, sister and friend.

This means that in my many roles in life and in my many responsibilities, I have made space to build others up.  To help others shine.  I have a positivity that gives others hope.  I have creativity that breathes life into the work that I do and the people I collaborate with.  I have joy radiating from inside of me.  I can encourage and inspire others because my cup is full.

But like any living thing I need space to shine.  I need new ways to evolve. Room to grow.  New lands to explore.  New places in this great big world to feed my soul.  I cannot and will not be contained.  

This is why I'm here.  This is why I'm seeking the opportunity to place myself where I want to be.

So when I condense my 45 years on this planet and 20 years of teaching experience into a mere two pages for a resume and a one page cover letter, I can’t help but feel diminished.

When tasked with condensing my intentions and potential impact, earned over years of excelling in a job I love, into a mere few pages, I’m left feeling unsatisfied, unheard, and unseen.

How do I fit all of me into such a small space?

Well the answer is, I don't.

So take a good look at me.  I'm so much bigger and better than what can be captured with just a few words.  My joy, creativity and zest for life cannot be contained on those pages.  My experiences, impact and expertise cannot be fully captured.  My fit in your world may not be so clear.

But here I am anyway.  Still using words to convey who I truly am.  Words that are only a mere whisper of what I'm fully capable of. 

If you ask me in passing, "how are you?" I will invariably respond, "I am amazing!"  Which is why I'm glad you're here.  I'm glad you took the time to explore who I really am and to dare to know me more.

Take me along with you on your journey and I will flourish.  And in doing so, my light will shine on others, giving everyone room to grow and flourish too.  

Too Much of Not Enough

 You have loved me since before I even existed

You have nurtured me with all of your heart

And provided for me in every way that you knew how

You saw yourself reflected in the bright blue of our eyes

The rosiness of our matching cheeks

I am a reflection of you in a frosted mirror

I hide under the cape of your care and the security of your embrace

Yet I feel unseen and misunderstood

I exist as a whirl of emotions that sometimes feels like too much

My ways are not fitting inside your box of logic and reason

My creativity roars and longs for an outlet 

I live in the shadow of your dreams 

The misunderstood black sheep of the family 

Carving my own path being my only sin 

I have spent countless times wondering if I’m good enough 

Not seeing my own value and unique abilities

I have spent years trying to measure up 

The imaginary meter stick illuding me at every turn 

Trying to achieve the thing that will make me acceptable

Trying to fit into that box of the ordinary

Rather than allow myself to be extraordinary

But I don’t blame you because you are who you are 

We all have our limits

We all have our own worldview

We all have our own twisted history

But from my perspective 

I’ve experienced a lifetime of being dearly loved

But only in parts

Only the bits and pieces that make sense to you

For me to be able to move on, I need to acknowledge our truth

To see you and I exactly as we are

Fully and finally letting go of what I never actually had

Before I am forced to let you go forever as I know that I eventually will

That day will forever come sooner than I want

I have had to mourn the loss of the relationship I wish we had

The one where I could go to you to say any thing

Do anything

Be anything 

Believe me when I say that I have tried to curate what we could be for so many years 

only to face the stubborn wall that has keept us apart

I am simultaneously exactly who you’d like me to be 

And everything you can’t understand

I will always feel like not enough and yet too much

I will always be your daughter

And you will always be the mother that I love in all the wrong ways

My Resolution to Flourish

I begin 2024 with a deep sense of pride. I am proud of what I have accomplished in the past year and how far I've come since I began making myself a priority. Too often, we start a new year with a resolution (a tradition that I loathe). What are New Year's Resolutions anyway? Just a collective self-deception that things will change just by wishing it to be so.

As I look back on some of the posts in this blog, I realize that, while they are not perfect, I see myself reflected in each one. I see my mindset, the deep changes I've undergone, some intense and sincere thoughts, emotions, and reflections. But most of all, I see my resolution to live life fully every day and to create for myself a life full of musings that inspire me to share with you (my dearest reader).

I don't feel awkward or ashamed to say I'm proud. And if I'm being 100% honest, I see my value for what feels like the first time ever. Mind you, I don't see it in every single aspect of my life, but I do see it in my intentional turning inwards, in my resolution to prioritize myself and my values. By doing so, I have opened up, and I can see and feel that I am flourishing.

What a great word. Flourishing.

What better word to describe exactly what I am feeling and how I am doing.

Don't get me wrong. It isn't a passive act. It is an ongoing intentional choice that requires dedication and resolve. I am prioritizing myself. I am examining my life, actions, behaviors, and words, determining if they are yielding the life that I want to live. It's hard work every day. Sometimes it's exhausting, but by doing so, I'm shedding some long-held seeds of self-doubt and finding that I am indeed flourishing!

I owe so much of this to some simple changes that I have made, to changing my perspective, to switching up how I spend my time, to prioritizing my health, to paying attention to what I put in my body, to curating with whom I spend my time, and to setting time for me to be in my own company.

If you're looking to do this too, be warned that it is hard work. You must be ready for it and willing to show up every day. There is no room for half-hearted attempts here, my friend.

You must carefully craft each aspect of your life so that it reflects who you truly are. If you find a problem, a void, or a contradiction, no one is going to change it for you. YOU are your best agent for change. YOU are capable of anything to make your life one that you feel fulfilled by and proud of. YOU have all the strength and ability to create whatever it is you desire. YOU just have to start doing whatever needs to be done by starting with one small step at a time.

Make that phone call.

Send that text.

Take that course.

Throw away that thing which no longer serves you.

Set aside time to do that right now.

Don't wait one more minute.

Don't wait for that fateful "one day" that will never come. Stop doubting yourself. Turn inwards to find who you truly are, what you truly love and value, and make your days reflect those many wonderful things that make you exactly who you were meant to be. Make this your resolution. Resolve to be steadfast to yourself, and undoubtedly you too will flourish.

A Reading Des(s)ert

So this summer has been a bit of a reading desert for me.  I certainly didn't read nearly as much as I usually do.  It's not as bad as I initially thought; now that I've added my summer titles it appears like a decent amount but it's certainly nowhere close to my norm.  

Why, you ask? I can think of a few reasons that lead to this outcome:

One, I tried to finish off reading a couple of books that I wasn't loving.  I really, really, really tried to get through them and I was hating it.  I kept putting them down and putting it off.  This was not a joyful way to read and made me feel stagnant and it stopped me from devouring book after book.

Two, I got deep into a podcast that took up a lot of my time.  It was exactly what I needed this summer and I'm so glad I did it.  But, rather than pick up a book or plug into my audio book, I pressed play for my podcast.  Although it took me away from my reading goal it was #worthit.

Three, I felt like reading might have been a bit of an avoidance tactic.  Rather than deal with the shit that I needed to deal with, rather than look inwardly, rather than sit in silence, I was filling my life with somone else's words.  When I came to this realization, I decided I needed a bit of mental silence.  I needed to hear my own thoughts and just be with me for a while.

But then again, being the reader that I am, I recently picked up a random book and started at it again and I'm feeling a nice balance between the voices in my head and the silence within.  Although I may not reach my 50 books for 2023 because of it but I'm ok with that.  I'm feeling calm.  I'm feeling in tune.  I'm ok either way.  And as simple as this radical acceptance sounds, this is certainly not how I've managed my life in the past.

Typically, I'm so hard on myself and demand not just "trying my best" but "being the best".  It wasn't helping me; it was crippling me. I know you're out there too calling yourself a "perfectionist" but honesly, calling yourself a perfectionist is just a way of covering up feelings of insecurity.  I'm not being harsh; I'm saying it as I've realized it about myself and I'm learning to just deal with it and love myself more.  You can too!

Be gracious.  Be gentle.  Be loving. Be you in all your imperfections.

It's ok!

As for my reading desert it's kind of led me to a summer of self love and calmness.  It's been a buffet of just being, of turning inward in order to open up.  It's been a sweet time for me to be there for me.  We're just finishing off this long weekend of September and it's the first time that I have truly, fully and intentionally enjoyed just being home in my own company.  I'm enjoying my staycation by simply being present in my life, with my family and spending quality time with myself.  It's been good.  Really, really good.

Ending the summer with a few good books has been a great last course to this summer buffet of self love.  I hope you can find a sweet ending to your summer too.

Think Like the Dying for a Life That's Worth Living

I'm in the process of growing some ideas about my career and where I see my future headed.  The crazy thing is that the more I open my heart, mind and soul to the possibility of doing something that really and truly makes me happy the more I've finding possibilities opening up before me.  

Although I'm not really ready to leave my career, I know that I can't do this forever; one, because I'm due to retire at some point and am simply looking foward to a change, and two, because this field has changed so fundamentally that I don't know if I want to be part of what it's becomming.

That being said, even though change in inevitable and I'm sure to enter a different chapter in my life at some point, I'm seeking ways to start laying the foundation for that future and redirecting my time towards the things that bring me great joy and will nourish my soul.  I don't want to find myself retiring with no idea of what I want to do with myself.

I know teaching has been a calling for me and that ultimately it is the life that I wanted; but if I'm being honest it's also the life that was expected of me based on society and based on my parents' expectations.  They are great parents and wanted me to have a secure job with great benefits and a pension.  That makes sense.  And I really and truly appreciate this part of my reality.  But did it lead me to the job that I really and truly in my heart of hearts wanted?

I dunno.

In Bronnie Ware's The Top Five Regrets of The Dying she shares inspirational life lessons that most people only come to learn on their death beds.  Here they all are in a nutshell:

Live the life YOU want.

Don't work so hard.

Allow yourself to have fun.

Stay in touch with friends.

Do not be afraid to express your true emotions.

So here I am thinking about what my future may hold and how I might be able to build more joy into an education system that has made me deeply, deeply unhappy since the start of the pandemic.  Don't get me wrong, I know that change can be good but the changes that were made were forced upon us and the end result left the classroom a dead husk of what it once was.  We need time to rebuild and reconsider what we're doing and to turn our faces away from screens and back towards one antoher's beautiful faces.

Becuase of where I am in my life and the state of education I'm asking myself if I'm living the life that I want?  Why am I working so hard 18 years into being a teacher (yes I know it's because I care but it's also becuase the system was turned into a shit show).  I'm asking myself, what do I do to really have fun, both in my personal life and while I'm at work.  What do I really and truly emjoy and how can I include that regularly in my life?

With the exception of my first year of teaching, the year the entire curriculum changed (and I changed schools at the same time), the pandemic was, by far one of the most challenging times in my career.  I worked so damn hard and the worst part is that I ended each day having felt like a failure.  This is because we aren't meat to grow up behind a screen.  We don't always learn best from a video or a document or a website.  The pervasive feeling of failure was hard to swallow and lead me to a very dark point in my life.

But since then, I've focused on enjoying life and having fun.  I've focused on reconnecting with old friends (whom, by the way were all so glad to hear from me and to this day contine to chat or meet regularly).  That has been a balm to my soul.  I've always known the importance of friends but I wasn't until I had lost touch with many of them that I realized what I was truly missing.

All of this I was doing without having read Ware's book.  Pretty incredible that I was led down this path through self reflection, meditation, and therapy in my 40s!

My last effort is in regards to beign brave enough to express how I truly feel.  I'm getting better and better at this.  Specifically when it comes to discussing mental health and what I've learned through therapy.  Funny enough I've noticed that my openness to my feelings and experiences can sometimes make peopel quite uncomfortable.  But I've come to learn that this discomfort is short lived and often helps others open up.  By being brave enough to show up emotionally, you'd be surprized how it makes space and inspires other to do the same.

What can you do to live your life to the fullest?  Are you living the life you truly want for yourself?  Do you have enough fun or are you working too much?  Are you connected with your friends?  Are you expressing your emotions and sharing how you truly feel?

Please!  Don't want until it's too late!  Don't end your life looking in the rearview mirror wishing you had done things differently.  Start rethinking your life now and build it so that you can live a joyful, peaceful, and enlightened life NOW! 

The Hydra Reborn

I'm so done with caring more than anyone else in my household about my household.  I already carry the burden of a full time job and on top of that it all the cooking, cleaning, scheduling, running around and managing that makes my home life my second full time job.  This is a common complaint amonst virtually every woman I know.  Like many women, it appears that the household and family are MY responsibility and my spouse is my "helper".  Tell me, does this sound familiar?

"I did the dishes for you honey!"

"What do you want me to clean?"

"Why are you complaining, didn't you notice I took out the garbage?"

If this sounds familiar then my dear I'm afraid you might be suffering from giving too many shits.  Yes, it's true.  So many women like myself care way too much about what's going on in their household and are forced to manage tasks that should be shared with a parter.  Not deligated to a "helper".  

This problem can be so pervasive that it reaches the point of making us sick.  Well, at least it has for me.

I wasn't able to put a name to this common frustration I find myself discussing with so many women.  I wasn't, that is, until I read Jess Zimmerman's Women and Other Monsters.  Great read if you're interested in reading about a reimaging of female figures in mytholoy while reminding us what it means to be a feminist.

Women have been cast as monsters for wanting too much, being too loud, being too large, nagging for what's only fair....

We need to stop working so hard only to be gas lit by a society that relies on women to not only work a day job but to then go home and be the household manager of the evening and NOT COMPLAIN ABOUT IT.  

We've come so far they say, why are you complaining?  You got this girl!  Woman power!  

Well I'm here to say F-that.

I'm telling you, we need to stop caring so much.  Not because we shouldn't care or that we don't actually care, but because we need to make room for other people to do some of the caring too.  The only way that's going to happen is if we make room for other members of the family to step up.  Do you know what that means?  It means things won't be perfect (gasp!) stuff may not get done (yikes!) dinner may not be incredible (oh no!).  But guess what?  At some point it will get done and hopefully, it won't just be you doing it all by yourself!

 I mean, if in the end the houshold knows I'm going to do it, why would anyone else?  

But for me it's more than just that, it's also pointing out to my spouse the language he uses that forces me into the managerial position.  I wish you could see the look on hs face when he asks what's for dinner and I respond with a casual, "I dunno - whatcha making honey?"

Turning language around on my spouse has been fun.  I'm considering how he approachs my managerial role on a regular basis by how he phrases his words and have decided to respond in kind.  Like, about the time when I said, "did you notice I made the bed for you?" to which he looked at me like I had 3 heads (because let's face it, he couldn't give a shit if the bed was made!).

Speaking of heads, I realy liked the reference to the mytholical creature known as the Hydra that Zimmerman makes in her book.  If you recall the Hydra is a monstrous creatue that cannot be beaten as once one of her many heads are cut off, two more grow in its place.  Zimmerman talks about a rebirth of the Hydra not so much as the multiheaded beast as we know it but in terms of the women's collective and femist movement.  Let's not let others cut us down or not give credit for the huge amount of emotional labour that we're often responsible for. 

If and when you hear or see an injustice towards women join me in becoming reborn as a collective monster with multiple heads.  Because together, there isn't anything that we can't conqer!