Learning to stop pursuing to allow space for receiving

I don’t know about you but this has been a very strange week for me. A week of searching, seeking and trying to understand who I am and where I am going. A week of questioning , probing. A week of great uncertainty. Where my emotions have been all over the place. Sometimes calm. Others times taking on everyone else’s energy and emotions then flying off the handle.

I have used meditation quite a lot this week to center myself. Refocus. Asking the Universe for guidance. I’m usually a person that can make decisions without too much effort as long as I have the information I need to make decisions. But this week I have found myself faltering. Not making decisions as fast as I would like. Not finding the information I need. Nothing resonating within me.

So this morning I decided to sleep in. To miss the sun rising. To just stay cocooned in bed. Letting my worries and concerns stream through my mind. Unfiltered. Without stopping them. Just letting them come as they saw fit.  Surprised by how many there were. Taking them in.

Through this process I realized at the heart of my uncertainty is the fact that I am worrying about tomorrow. About the fact that I am nearing 50 and my life is not where I thought it was going to be. Leaving me wondering about how much time I have left to fulfill my dreams. To show myself and my children how great the mind is as long as we believe.  To understand that as long as we believe, as long as we stretch our imaginations, as long as we keep working toward our dreams, we will achieve them.

But my question is, what if the life we dream of is not what we are meant to achieve? What if we keep searching for something that constantly seems to be beyond our reach? What happens then? Do we abandon that dream or do we just keep going where we are and hope that like the butterfly, if we stand still long enough it will flutter to us and land on our shoulder?

Is that what life is teaching me? That I need to give up pursuing and instead try receiving as much as I can. That I need to be patient and let life find me rather than me trying to find it. Is that why I slept in this morning so I could understand that sometimes we just need to be right where we are in the present moment in order to receive what we are meant to receive. That if we are constantly moving in all different directions, changing tactics and trying to reach our end goal before we are ready then we will end up frustrating ourselves and others around us?

That all we need is ask once and then let go and if what we ask for is meant for us we will achieve it. I am going to try to let go. To surrender. Accepting sometimes I won’t be able to because I am human and infallible. That I am full of imperfections and hopes and dreams. To learn to trust I am as I am because I am. Allowing myself to surrender to the abundance and treasures of the Universe to give myself space to receive.

Here’s to a lazy Saturday – giving myself permission to just be….

Our flaws are our greatest teachers

I caught myself last night being the kind of mother I don’t like to be. Yelling. Dismissive. Chastising. Angry. Disappointed. But mostly feeling a sense of not being good enough at anything.

After my children went to bed, probably feeling a little deflated by my actions, I sat down and breathed and I understood my family was feeling the brunt of my anxieties about an unfulfilled day at work. A day when everything I touched seemed to go in a completely different direction to what I had anticipated. Leaving me to have to put out fire after fire.

I realized the importance of checking myself at the door. Realizing the importance of leaving what doesn’t belong in my home outside that door before I walk in. But I also know I am human and will from time to time falter because I am not perfect. The irony of my actions last night with my children was because I felt imperfect I wanted more than anything for them to be perfect. So I was judging them in such a way that demanded perfection from them. I realized I was transferring the fact that I had been imperfect and judged by others for being so onto my children. Asking them to be something even I can’t be all the time. To perform at a level even I can’t all the time.

I went to bed last night feeling horrible. I was particularly concerned about some of the things I said to my son because I had been frustrated with him for procrastinating and doing his homework at the last minute and not completing it to my standards. I realized that I need to reframe the way I say things to him because my standards are not his standards. He has his own way of thinking and I have no right to belittle him for that. Regardless of whether I am his mother.

Instead of criticizing him what I need to be doing is redirecting him. Instead of threatening him with failure I should be finding ways to encourage him with success. Terms like, “if you don’t do this, you will fail” need to be replaced with, “how about if you tried it this way”. Instead of suggesting and planting fear, negativity and failure in his brain I need to suggest positivity and success. Sowing seeds of possibility rather than impossibility.

Last night I realized more than ever that a lot of our feelings and reactions come from a place of ego and fear and they are not good feelings to transfer to anyone else particularly the developing minds of our young people. Particularly on our children. They learn more from us through osmosis than we believe.

This morning I woke up recognizing my behavior and forgiving myself for it making space in my heart and soul to acknowledge I am not perfect and sometimes things go beyond my control. In turn allowing me to see my children are not perfect either and sometimes they won’t do what I expect. But it’s not up to me to make them feel inadequate. It’s up to me to try to find a way to encourage them to be the best they can be not by threatening them with failure but by encouraging them with success. And the only way I can do so is to check myself before entering their space. Or anyone's space for that matter.

Recognising it is our flaws are our greatest teachers so why try to take them from anyone - particularly the growing minds of our children?.

A miracle unexplained

Do you believe that death is final? Do you ever wonder what happens to us once we die? Do you believe in spirits? In angels?  Ghosts?  The haunted and the hunted?

Do you believe that we keep coming back here to learn lessons and when we’re done there is nothing more to come back for? Do you wonder why we are here? What caused us to come here and why we would want to be here facing so many trials?

Do you wonder what is beyond the sky, the stars and moon? Do you wonder whether there truly is a parallel universe? Do you question what our human race has been brought here to do?

I do often. Wondering how we fit into this large, mysterious, and infinite universe. Why we fit into it. I question sometimes how we can stand up and walk without falling over. I marvel at the miracle that is us.  Questioning who or what could have come up with the concept of us and why?

Then I think we must be from the same origin – from the same space and place. Sharing a commonality of some measure.Yet we sometimes turn on each other. Why?

Why do we come here living in different parts of the world? Speaking different languages. Having varying colors of skin. Growing up with different experiences and cultures. Of varying wealth and poverty and somewhere in between. Why?

Do you wonder why we go for material gain rather than spiritual gain? Why we have made life so complicated piling more onto our plates than we can ever handle or eat or even care to. Why we torture ourselves?

Sometimes I look at the street people and wonder if they have life sussed out because they seem to get the concept of present moment living. While we struggle - projecting ourselves into an unknown future. Whereas they don’t conform to anyone’s pressures but their own. Just being. Asking for money to get their next meal. I look at my cousin who is schizophrenic and walks around the streets asking for money and I don’t see any stress in his eyes. His thoughts trapped within the recesses of his brain. Not concerned about mortgages, jobs, pressures. Does he have it right? Is my life really that much different from his?

And then I sit back and think about my questions. Really pondering them. And my only consistent answer is that we have been sent here to understand that no matter how different we are, no matter what we believe or think, we are all here to accept diversity on the outside. But hopefully get that on the inside we are all the same. That we all want to love and to be loved. To be heard and understood. To be acknowledged. To learn empathy and compassion. To share. To teach and learn. To understand we are one race – the human race here on this plane for a finite amount of time in order to grasp all we can about the physical being to prepare us for something much more. For the day when we truly understand and embrace our soul.

Still there is so much I don’t understand and never will but I figure as long as I keep questioning and searching and learning and teaching eventually I will find the answers. But in the meantime I will continue to marvel at the miracle that is us. The journey of this adventure called life and its great mystery. Appreciating every moment I am given. Every person that crosses my path. Every encounter I face. Accepting I am a part of this great mystery – a miracle unexplained but wonderful nonetheless.

Trusting we are as we are because we are

Sometimes we just have to let go. Not hold on to old childhood fears. Not worry about things we can not control. Sometimes we just have to surrender without expectation. Without judgment. Sometimes we just have to go with the flow and not worry about what comes in the next second or moment. Remembering always that time is not promised to anyone. To live each second of each day as if it was our last. To rejoice in the moment we have been given. To marvel in it. To be grateful for every second.

Sometimes we have to spread our arms wide. Inviting all of the outside fresh air in.  Absorbing all of nature into our mind, bodies and soul. Allowing us to inhale the freshness of new beginnings. Exhaling the staleness of the old. Sometimes we just have to stop and give thanks for all that we have. To think of all the good in our lives rather than wallowing in all the bad.

Sometimes we just have to believe we are worthy of all that comes into our lives allowing us to open to all that much more that is out there. Sometimes we just have to accept that life will have its ups and down so we can appreciate when we are up.

Sometimes we just have to stop. Stand still. Close our eyes. And truly surrender to the darkness behind our eyelids. Shutting out all that is around us so that we can listen to all that is within us. Surrendering to the music of our souls. The beat of our own rhythm. The pulse that flows only through us. Allowing us to see and feel our individuality. To embrace all that is us. Loving ourselves for who we are, where we are and what we are. Sometimes we just have to trust that we are as we are because we are.

Mountaintops and valleys and everything in between

What do we do when possibility stares us down? What do we do when life gives us the chance to start all over again? When our history has been wiped away forcing us to start anew? What happens then? How do we overcome the tests, the fears, our shadow selves, and the darkness? And why does it happen just when we think we have reached the mountaintop?

I know I am constantly talking about my computer crashing and I need to let it go but I can’t at the moment. To be absolutely honest I am finding this whole process of reinventing my writing incredibly daunting. I miss the comfort of my past documents coming up when I hit the recent items tab. I absolutely miss the process of going back to look at thoughts I had started and not completed to see whether I am ready to tackle them or not. I feel totally lost with this whole new hard drive.

I feel uncertain. Afraid almost. Panicked is an even better word because I literally have to think of something completely new every day. There is no going back. No checking. No touchstone.  I wake up feeling overwhelmed about what to write. Where to start. How to start. Panicking that maybe I am going to repeat something I have already written. Worried that I will sound like a broken record. Uncertain about redefining myself and my blog. This morning was especially daunting because I don’t understand why I am at this point. Don’t understand what the Universe is trying to teach me.

So I just started to write. Letting my thoughts flow. Without question. To see if through my meditative writing state I would find an answer. I would understand why my slate has been wiped clean. Why I have been forced to change direction.

And then it hit me. Like my hard drive being wiped cleaned, I am being forcefully shown that when we shed our old habits. When we get rid of our excess baggage. When we venture out into the unknown. Life is giving us the opportunity to embrace the new, the unfounded, the uncertain because it is allowing us to go beyond our boundaries. To feel and experience uncertainty. To try them on. Shed what doesn’t feel right and to keep moving and trying until we find that rhythm that resonates with us.

Allowing me to understand that change is the only constant in life. Sometimes it’s familiar and expected. Other times it’s unfamiliar and totally unexpected. And I am finding that when change comes out of the blue as it did with my job shutting down unexpectedly, as it did when my mother died sudddenly, that it was setting me up to move in directions I never dreamed possible. Because unexpected change forces me to really test my boundaries, to really face my dark side, my shadow self, to forge ahead into the unknown. And eventually the path that I am meant to be on appears right before my eyes and what I realize then is that it has always been there – waiting and beckoning me to see and understand that no matter what happens in life, it is up to me to decide whether change will make or break me. If I will embrace it and learn from it and grow into a stronger and more empathetic person.

My computer crashing is my latest test to show me  how important it is every once in a while to move beyond the familiar, to wipe my slate clean, in order to make way for the possibilities that exist beyond the realm of my old way of thinking. To stretch my imagination to tap into new recesses of my brain. To accept that if I don’t listen to my inner voice and willingly move in its direction then the Universe will shift me anyway and always when I least expect it.

Because I now know when I reach the mountaintop, it is time to start anew. To learn again because life is all about mountaintops and valleys and everything in between. A journey. A process. Shedding and Learning. Learning and Shedding.

Letting go and letting be

Last night I was feeling down in the dumps because this weekend flew by and I did not give myself the opportunity to do anything I wanted for myself. I was busy doing for everyone else but me. I was also feeling the blues because my hard drive has been replaced but the majority of my documents have been lost. Leaving me feeling lost. Like I have lost part of my inner soul. And just when I was starting to really feel like a victim, I checked myself. Telling myself that life could be a lot worse.  Reminding myself of all I have to be grateful for:

Waking up this morning

Love

My children

My husband

All my family healthy and happy

 Living in a beautiful place and home

The sun shining bright today

The birds singing

Happy and content children

Having a computer

Finding some of my documents

Having the ability to write

Writing

Earning a good standard of living

Living and Breathing

Food to eat – abundance on my table

Abundance in my life

And once I realized and accepted just how much I have to be grateful for, a miracle happened. My mind set shifted and I could breathe again. I felt at peace with all that I had lost. Once I allowed that feeling of peace in, miraculously I found a link on my computer that took me to a drive I had forgotten about which led me to the piece of writing I had been looking for. Hands shaking I opened the document and there it was – preserved and waiting for me. I could almost hear the voice of angels as I felt my faith renewed. Hope restored. Joy in every measure.

Chills ran up and down my spine once I found the document. So much so that I sat back in my chair inhaling the feeling of truly understanding surrender. Of truly understanding the need to release all that we cannot control. Of not holding on to the negative. Of believing in magic and miracles, fairies and unicorns, Santa Claus and tooth fairies. Of accepting there is so much out there we don’t and will never understand but as long as we practice surrender and faith, when we least expect it, a miracle will show up in our lives as it did for me last night. Restoring my faith in the Universe to surrendering to all that I have no control over. Giving me hope that when the time is right, we always get what we need.

What a way to begin a new week – full of faith, hope, possibility and trust. And most of all understanding the importance of letting go and letting be.

Love is powerful beyond measure

Last night my husband and I attended a tribute concert to John Lennon in the Botanical Gardens. A fitting place for the tribute because we were sitting in the very garden where Lennon found his muse the double fantasy freesia, a beautiful flower, allowing him to tap into his creativity again. It was in the garden we sat last night that he composed his last album before he was killed. Aptly titled Double Fantasy.

The weather forecast had predicted a stormy night at first with two fronts approaching Bermuda but the stormy weather never came. A few times the moon was obscured by heavy threatening clouds. Only for them to be magically dispersed. And occasionally rain misted down on us. Almost as if to refresh us rather than soak us.

Once the show began the sky cleared leaving us unobstructed views of a sky blanketed with twinkling stars and a perfect crescent moon resting amongst them. The air a perfect temperature.  Looking around at all the people who had come to take in the Lennon feeling of love filled me with joy. Some setting up picnics on the hill as families. Others like us going as friends to relive our youth. Letting loose and enjoying the love and joy freely flowing through the crowd.

I could feel Lennon’s spirit shining down on us. His presence, I believe, a large factor for chasing away the stormy weather. Making way for a picturesque setting against the backdrop of an unobstructed night sky.  Allowing the perfect conditions for everyone to have a great time.

Sitting there last night taking in the atmosphere absorbing the love so prevalent throughout the crowd. Looking from face to face. I realized just how quickly life can change no matter our social standing. No matter who we are. Reminding me, we are never immune from the hands of fate. We never know when our last day will come. Reminding me to live as if each second, each moment is my last. Reminding me to be love, give love and receive love.

I wondered as I watched the slide show of Lennon with his then young son, who is now a man himself, whether he knew he was on borrowed time when he took his last voyage to Bermuda. I wondered if he had a feeling deep down inside compelling him to sail here with his son. I wondered if he wanted to give his son a gift to remember him always. I wondered if these feelings allowed him to open to a deeper part of himself. A part of himself he had sheltered before. I wondered if his new found love of life and self allowed him to write again after 5 years of writer’s block.

To allow his son and us to know no matter what, all we need is love. No matter how desperate the situation we may find ourselves in, love will always take us out of it.

For him to die having found  love so profoundly and deeply as he did in his last year of life was probably worth more to him than the fame he had acquired his whole life. I looked around the garden and at the stars twinkling in the sky and whispered thank you to Lennon for reminding me just how powerful love can really be. So powerful that I believe it pushed all the bad weather away last night. And allowed us to enjoy a night of Lennon and love.

Seeing the world through the lenses of our children

My son has started to take the bus home. First time since he began his school life so we are all still getting used to the new routines.

Last night as we were chatting about the schedule for today, I realized today is the first official day my children will take the bus home together. Weather permitting off course. And I told my son that his sister’s Friday activity does not start until next week but once it starts he could have the choice of coming home with his dad or continuing to catch the bus.

To which he responded, “I think I will continue to take the bus home. It gives me great pleasure to take the bus. To walk with my friends…” and he had a truly wistful and grown up look on his face. My heart warmed just looking at his face. In awe of the sense of accomplishment mixed with a sense of pride his whole being exuded.

Then it hit me.  My little boy is growing up right before my eyes. Gaining his independence from me. And I smiled feeling comforted he feels secure enough to want to take his own path without fear.

As I walked out of his bedroom I realized the route my son walks from school is almost the route I walked from school when I was his age. But my walk and my ride on the bus were longer than his both metaphorically and physically. When I was his age I walked from the public school further up the road sometimes worried about feeling inferior to those rich children that attended the private school my children now attend. Now realizing the stories of those children’s lives may not have been that different from mine.

My bus ride was a much longer ride than my son’s because of where I lived compared to where we now live. But when I think back I needed that longer ride. To lose the tough girl exterior I carried to protect myself from feeling too vulnerable as a newly motherless daughter. To make room for the 13 year old Cinderella persona I took on when I walked through my door. Cooking for my family. Doing homework. Getting everyone ready for the next day because I became the mother and woman figure in my home

I held on to his door knob digesting our intersecting paths. A warmness filling my soul as I understood life brings us full circle to when we were children through our children. To allow us to remember what the world felt like through their eyes. To remind us to let go of them sometimes so they can experience rather than us telling them what their experience should be. Letting them explore on their own so they can come back when they are ready to talk to us to help them understand what it is they are experiencing. And that is why my son has ended up on almost the same route as minewhen I was his age. To teach us both something about ourselves. About letting go and trusting. About growing up. About feeling worthy. From different vantage points but on roughly the same path.

And then I let the door knob go and walked away. Comforted in knowing my son and I are exactly where we need to be.  Grateful for understanding the importance of letting go knowing how much rope I had when I was his age and how well I have turned out. Grateful for knowing it's okay to give him some rope too. Grateful that I am still here to experience his growing up with him.

What happens when we don't listen

My absolute worst nightmare happened last night. My hard drive failed on my computer! And I am so lost without all the thoughts I had started to write. And I’m not sure if my removable drive is working either. I was so upset and tired that I just went to bed. I woke up this morning with the hope that it was just a fluke last night. That I would be able to turn my computer on and it would be working again. No such luck.  It's dead and I am devastated beyond words.

My computer is like an appendage to me. Full of my thoughts. Partially written blogs. A gateway to helping me to understand me and now I may have lost them all.  In an instant. I will have to wait until my son wakes up to know just how bad it is for me as he is better than I am for getting around the computer. I am good but compared to him I am like a dinosaur.

I feel like a part of me has been ripped out and I don’t understand why this happened to me now. When I was so on a groove this week with thoughts that were almost at the stage for release in my blog. Now I can’t get to them. I am trying my best to keep it together. To breathe. To accept that the position I have found myself in is exactly where I am meant to be. But I am still angry, confused and slightly off because my mornings on my own with my computer provide me with a form of meditation and release. But not this morning.

I have been forced to seek an alternative – my husband’s computer.  And I am grateful to have access to his computer so I can still write but it feels alien. Strange because it is not mine.  Strange because it is not filled with me. It is filled with him. Even my writing is different today.

I don’t understand why my vehicle to my inner soul has been abruptly taken from me. And I am really trying hard to accept there is nothing that I can do about it now.  To accept everything happens for a reason. To accept there is a season to everything. My computer’s season is obviously done and its death has taught me that we always have to remain open. To be ready to start anew. To find a new path.

I am telling myself I have been given the opportunity to start all over with a blank slate. To recreate my persona on another PC or lap top whichever way I decide to go. I’m disappointed that the decision was taken out of my hands unwillingly. Particularly since deep down inside I knew my computer was giving me warning signs that it was on its way out but I wouldn’t listen. Refused to listen. Refused to accept that a perfectly good looking computer on the outside could be severely damaged on the inside. So I would reboot it or get someone else to thinking I could continue to get more and more out of her. But she could not take it anymore and just shut down on me. So thinking about it why am I surprised? I am in this position because I did not take heed of the warning signs. 

So I am breathing through this because I know my computer is showing me something about my life. Teaching me an invaluable lesson. Teaching me that when we don’t take heed of the warning signs. When we don’t listen to that inner voice. When we plow ahead onto paths that are difficult for us.  When we don’t take care of our insides regardless of how good we look on the outside. Eventually we will face a road block. A death. A sense of not belonging. Forced unprepared to face what the universe has been telling us all along. Rather than listening and making the necessary adjustments to allow us to be prepared. To start anew on our own terms rather than on forced terms. Nothing in our lives happens by chance. And if we are truly honest with ourselves we always know where we are meant to be.

And Universe I get it now. Kicking and screaming but I get it. I will listen from now on because I don’t want to find myself in this position again anytime soon. And for this lesson of listening to my inner voice, taking care of my insides as well as my outside, taking heed of the warning signs and following them I am truly grateful. Painfully so. But grateful nonetheless.

 

The power of intention

Well my little girl did it! She got one of the coveted parts for the pantomime this year. To say she is excited is an understatement. To say we are so proud of her is an understatement. What a lesson in tenacity and perseverance from a little nine year old for us. Showing us attitude is everything.

As I came through the door late last evening, my little girl jumped out from behind it, telling me she had a part in the Pantomime. She said it so quickly and so excitedly that at first I didn’t fully understand her but I knew it was something special because I could see it all over her face. So to be certain I asked her to repeat what she had said. This time she told me clearly that she had a part in the pantomime. Barely able to contain her excitement she then she jumped into my arms. Both us of doing a happy dance with me hugging her tightly and congratulating her over and over again.

My husband beaming with pride and even our 13 year old son joined in. All of us in awe of this little girl who dreamed that one day she would be performing on the stage at City Hall. Spoke her dream and was now standing before us on the cusp of that dream at 9 years of age. A living example of the power of intention. She was not quite sure how to feel about reaching her dream so quickly. A goal that some people never reach because if they fail the first time they give up believing it is not meant for them.

But my daughter’s success reminded me of the difference between those who do and those who don’t. People that do, believe in themselves and keep going until they accomplish their dreams. People that don’t, allow ego to get in the way. Making them second guess themselves and question their sense of worth. Giving up before they have even tried because they are so afraid of failing.

Bringing to mind a quote from Michael Jordan I had seen posted on Facebook that said, “I’ve missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I’ve lost about 300 games. 26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.” “Attitude is everything.”

This is my lesson for the day. Behind the power of intention is my attitude. It is believing in myself.  Of accepting that I am worthy. It is going for it even when others and even I tell myself I can’t. That is why we have those that do and those that don’t. A lesson reinforced from my nine year old daughter who keeps going for it even when she has been told she can’t. She is living proof that there is nothing like the power of intention.  

Breathing space makes way for the true me

Have you ever felt so busy that you don’t know where to start? Don’t know which pile to tackle first. So busy thinking about everything you have to do that you can’t start anything?

That’s how I’m feeling at the moment. Too much going on. Too much to do. Too many demands. Too many people wanting something from me. Paperwork piling up. Deadlines coming and going. Meeting after meeting. From one to the next. Barely having time to breathe through them. To digest anything from any of them.

Feeling guilty about missing events in my children’s lives because I am too busy doing other things. Things that if I didn’t do could keep piling up as they are now. The piles keeping getting higher and higher almost to the point where I can’t see over the top. No space for thinking. No time for creativity. Innovation, what’s that? When the meetings and tasks keep rolling in.

Ideas come and go like speeding bullets. Gone before I have had the chance to write them down. Gone before I have had the chance to process them. Downward spiralling. Feeling sorry for myself because I can’t get anything done. Meetings and more meetings. Discussions about the same things. Whatever happened to the days when people just did? Without planning. Without committees. Without everyone second guessing each other. Without people trying to outdo each other. What happened to good old fashioned collaboration? When people worked together. Had each other’s backs. Wanted to see each other succeed.

When did everything else become more important than breathing space? Quality time. Time to rejuvenate. Why do people forego personal time in pursuit of status, money and position? What have we become when we measure our success by how busy we are rather than on how productive we are? Because believe it or not there is a difference, busy people aren’t always productive. They can’t be because they aren’t focussed on anything but being busy.

Sometimes being busy or having the appearance of being busy takes us away from ourselves. Takes us away from being our essence selves. Takes us away from being the best we can be because we are so busy being busy rather than being us. Busyness masks who we are. Doesn't give us time to be who we are meant to be because we are too busy being busy.

So I have a mission today and my mission is I am going to stop feeling so pressured. Stop feeling so busy. Stop believing I can do it all. Instead I am going to do the best I can in the time I have to do it in. Then,  I am going to shut it all off so I can have some breathing space. Some quality time with myself to make room for my better self to emerge. So I can open myself up to the abundance of the universe rather than closing myself off in the dark hovels of its scarcity. Step outside of that mentality that tells me  am an underachiever if I don’t do it all. Reminding myself I realise I can’t and won’t be able to do it all because I am human limited by my human imperfections. The very same imperfections that make me the woman I am today.

Breathing space whenever I can today. Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly to allow me to make way for the true me. I feel relief rolling in already.... And so can you.

An unplanned and expected picture perfect family Sunday

Yesterday was one of those picture perfect family days totally unplanned and unexpected. My husband had been away for the week so our daughter had asked if we could all go for brunch as a family because she was so happy to have us back together again.

We wanted to go somewhere different from where we normally go so my husband suggested Grotto Bay. At first our daughter was a little disappointed because she wanted to go where there was a chocolate fountain. There was a method to her madness after all. Family brunch equated to a chocolate fountain for her. But she acquiesced and was open to going somewhere different.

Our son had been out all day the day before and was exhausted so he didn’t really feel like doing anything but begrudgingly went along with us. The brunch turned out to fantastic not just because of the food but because we were all together. We sat at a table where we got to see a fabulous view of the harbour. The setting outside of our window was magical. Lifting everyone’s mood. Our son coming back alive and to himself once he ate some food. Our daughter in good spirits despite the lack of chocolate fountain. So the conversation flowed easily between us. Happily between us.

Our children asking if it was okay to go outside after they had finished eating then wondering out to sit in two chairs on the lawn in front of the restaurant. Leaving my husband and me to talk on our own. Talking together as adults while watching our children exploring outside. Toasting our family. Our children. Our endurance as a couple. Looking at their heads above the chairs as if they were an old married couple taking in their surroundings. Grateful for their relationship as brother and sister.

And then once we finished brunch we walked along the grounds just chatting. We rediscovered a cave we had not been into for a while. And found 4 friends swimming in the cave looking like something out of a tourism advert for Bermuda. My husband offering to snap a photo of them for their memory books Our daughter dying to swim. Disappointed she had not brought her swim suit.

Our son spotting a large silk spider hanging from a bush eating a bee on our way out. Chatting with a couple from Long Island who have been coming to Bermuda for the last 50 years. Here on vacation with their nine grandchildren. Walking along another path and discovering a pergola overlooking a little man made beach where there was a school of Sergeant Major swimming. A man swimming with his little daughter. Two friends snapping photographs of the picturesque surroundings.  Snapping a photo of us. Everyone in a good and cheery mood.

Then we walked back up the long steps in a different section from where we had come. Marvelling at how rustic everything looked. Our daughter discovering a playground at the top giving my husband and I the opportunity to sit in two chairs overlooking  the harbour. Inhaling and exhaling. Grateful for making the choice to step outside the box and do something different from the norm. Grateful for having a new experience in the place we call home. Taking in all the beauty of our Island home from a fresh and new perspective. Allowing us to realise just how fortunate we are to be surrounded by beauty every single day that we sometimes take for granted.

And then we walked arm in arm as a family away from our unexpected and unplanned experience back to the car and back to home. Marvelling at all that we have to be grateful for on a sunny, picture perfect family Sunday. 

Learning when to let go from my daughter

Here it is one year later and my daughter is once again trying out for the Pantomime production despite not getting in last year. She said she will keep trying until she gets in. She was up bright and early ready. Ready to take on the challenge. With me telling her not to be upset if she doesn’t get in. To be proud of herself for just trying. To do her best and to have fun.

She didn’t want me to make a fuss over her. She wanted to choose her own outfit and do her own hair. I guess she wanted to feel like she was in control over what happened to her today. To feel responsible for every aspect of her audition. Not to let anyone interfere. So I acquiesced. Stepped aside and let her get herself ready both mentally and physically. And I have to admit she did look really cute when she emerged from her room all dressed and ready. My heart swelling with pride as I realised how independent and determined she is becoming. Ready to take on the world in her own way without anyone’s influence. And she’s only 9.

Then her shadow self emerged once we got there. Putting fear back into her soul. We were the first ones in to complete the forms and she got the first number and her face crumbled. Her self confidence disintegrating before my eyes.

“What’s wrong?”I asked.

“I don’t want to be first,” she said. “I don’t like being first. I want to be number 3.”

And then I had to check myself because I could feel anger rising up in me as I wondered how she could flip flop in that instant. Breathing through it  and letting my ego go. Realising she is only 9 years old and had been preparing all along for the audition. And now it was upon her and she was going to be in there first before she had time to digest that the time had finally come. Realising it was her own insecurity rising to the surface making her believe she was going to fail.

As I was telling her that she stood a better chance of being selected by being in the first group, a friend who knows a lot about theatre came out and gave her a pep talk and some advice about how to handle herself. Our friend took my daughter by her hand and told me to leave so she could not feel so pressured. My little girl still looking terrified looked at me and said, “Go mommy.”

Looking her in the eye and seeing the determination behind the fear, I knew it was okay to leave. Felt it would be better for us both. I told her to just have fun. To do the best she can and be her usual sunny self. She nodded her head. Then turned and ran down the steps without looking back and I walked away hoping she will be okay. Shaking like a leaf but sending her love and light. Surrendering to the fact that this audition is up to her and if it is in her cards, she will be selected. If not, as she said, she will keep trying until she makes it or doesn’t want to do it anymore.

Our children dreams are theirs alone, not ours

Do we have the right to stop our children from doing something they really want? Do we have the right to take their dreams away from them? Are we meant to stir them out of harm’s way or are we meant to let them get in harm’s way so they can learn their own lessons?

My daughter wants to be an actress, model and a beauty contestant. And she is really beautiful but she is only 9 years old. Am I meant to let her go and do what resonates with her or am I meant to hold her back and let her develop the other aspects of who she is so she understands her looks are not everything.

I remember how unkind many of the pretty girls were when I was young. How they looked down on those of us who were considered plain. How they used their looks for everything before they understood who they were and as they have aged and their looks have started to fade they seem lost because they can no longer use their looks to get what they want. I don’t want that experience for my daughter. I want her to understand there is more to life than looks.

I came into my looks much later in my life probably when I was about 25. I grew up in the era when women and girls with chocolate skin such as mine were looked down upon or overlooked all together. I used to feel like the invisible woman flailing her arms trying to attract attention. To no avail. But during that time of being the invisible woman, I was able to develop a deeper sense of who I am. And more importantly I learned compassion, empathy and forgiveness. Will my daughter learn these aspects if she is so focused on what she looks like rather than on who she is on the inside?

I would like to see my daughter develop her whole self before she becomes too caught up in the way she looks. But do I have the right to kill her dreams?  To make her believe her choices are trivial compared to mine? Do I have the right to stymie who she really is because I’m afraid of what can happen to her? Do I have the right to make her second guess herself particularly when she looks at me with those eyes full of hope and dreams and says, “But mommy, this is who I am.” Do I have the right to kill that or do I just let her go and be who she really is and be there to catch her when she needs me?

That last sentence resonated the most with me so I think I’ll just let her be. Not stopping her from being who she wants but guiding her at the same time to be her whole self. And the only way to do that is to lead by example rather than by telling. To let her see that any girl or woman can be gracious and kind regardless of what she looks like by my actions and advice. To teach her that every person on this Earth is here for a reason and to treat them in the manner she wants to be treated by my actions not my telling.

She is such a blossom at the moment, ripe for the picking and I just want to help her to be as whole as she can be as it is a cold cold world out there sometimes. And I would hate for her innocence to be shattered so early in life when she has her whole life ahead of her. More importantly, I don’t want to be responsible for shaping her into someone she is not because this is her life – full of her own dreams and desires - regardless of whether they are contrary to mine.

Because as Jess Lair says, “Children are not things to be molded, but are people to be unfolded.”

Learning from a blank page

Blank page staring back at me. Asking me to write something. Anything. Challenging me really. Ego getting in the way as I try to think of something great rather than just writing. Sometimes the writing won’t come because I am so worried about not being able to write making the process that much harder. Rather than just going with the flow. And letting it come through me.

Reminding me that life is like a blank page. There is no prewritten script that we can remember. No instructions really about how to live even though loads of people think they are expert enough to tell us how we should live. But they can’t. No one can tell us how to live. We just have to live. Creating and recreating our own stories.

Writers look at their new beginnings as blank pages. Artists as blank canvasses. Architects as blank plans. And I could go on. Each one of us has the ability to turn the page.  To write our own stories. Draw our own pictures according to the way we see life. We are the masters of our destiny. Here to create masterpiece lives, mediocre lives or whatever lives we are comfortable living. Not everyone is meant to be a star. Not everyone is meant to be homeless. Not everyone is meant to be middle of the road. But what each of us is meant to be is the best we can be.

Blank page. Sometimes can be daunting. Sometimes can be intimidating. Sometimes can be downright frightening. But if we just let go and surrender to the Divine. Surrender to the flow. Not worrying about ego. Not worrying about what anyone else will say. Not worrying about falling flat on our faces. Because we can be guaranteed there will be someone who will tell us we can’t. Someone who will mock us. Just as there will be someone who will tell us we can. Encourage us. And we can be guaranteed that at some point in our lives we will fall flat out our faces. But the beauty of falling is once we will ourselves to get up and start all over again, we understand the fall was the best thing for us. Forcing us to find that blank page and starting all over again.

When I think about life in this way, that blank page doesn’t seem as horrible anymore. No it doesn’t. The concept of a blank page actually is liberating. Lovely in fact. Knowing I can create whatever story I want is actually very exciting once I cast aside ego and replace it with the courage to record the stories of every colourful and wonderful person, place or thing. To write stories of my constantly changing experiences. To understand that I can turn the page on experiences that don't resonate with me and start a new page. A blank page to change my story. Recreate it in whatever way I desire. To write my own original story. No one else’s but mine.

When I think about life like that, I feel all powerful. All knowing. All free to be me. Particularly when I realise every single moment of every single day I am given a new beginning. Another blank page to craft my story in whatever way I choose. Wow.

 Here’s to another new beginning. Another blank page today. And I intend to take advantage of being given the ability to choose a blank page and start all over again whenever I feel the need. Crafting my story. Opening my heart, mind, body and soul to all the opportunities that present themselves to me because they are all a part of my life’s rich tapestry. Good and bad. Expected and unexpected. All forming the basis of my story called life.

What could be better than that?

A feeling of Grace in the face of the Divine

Some days when I wake up I can feel the magic in the air. I can feel such possibility in the world. I understand that I am magic and I am possibility. There is nothing like that feeling. It is almost indescribable – almost surreal. This morning was one of those mornings.

I looked out at the sky this morning and it looked like something out of one of my childhood nursery rhymes. A sliver of a moon lying on its back. A sky full of stars twinkling just like in the story books. I almost chuckled looking at the stars twinkling away because I felt like a little girl again who was able to see twinkling stars not just balls of light. A dark black sky illuminated only by the lights of the moon and stars. Providing a dimension to the depth and wealth of possibility that exists before us every single day. And immediately my belief in possibility and magic swelled even more as I was filled with wonder and joy. To know that I am part of all that exists in this world, in this dimension was awe inspiring. And I inhaled deeply trying to capture the memory of that moment to store it for those times when I don’t believe in possibility. When I don’t believe in magic. When I can’t see the twinkling stars.

I inhaled the wonder of the amazingly beautiful and constantly changing world that I live in where from one day I could be in the midst of a storm to a day such as this morning where everything is beautiful and calm. Perfect almost. Allowing me to understand we have to experience constant changes in order for us to appreciate who we are, what we are and where we are. In order for us to understand that if everything remained the same all the time we would take ourselves and life for granted. Change is what allows us to see the possibility in ourselves and in the world around us.

Sometimes I wish I could bottle the feeling of joy, magic, and understanding I feel when I give myself the gift of time alone. When I give myself the gift of silence. When I feel shivers running through my body because I know I have tapped into something that is as close to the Divine as I can possibly get. When my whole spirit feels at peace. When I know I am here for a reason and accept that I am who I am as I am where I am.

Because I know these feelings come from a place of deep gratitude, of reverential understanding of the Divine plan, of being content with me. Sometimes I wish I could feel like this all the time but I know I can’t and I won’t because then I would not fully appreciate this feeling. So instead I am enjoying having had the opportunity to experience this euphoria and will surrender to it for as long as I can. Not worrying about when and how it will leave. Instead I am basking in its glory.  And for this feeling of Grace in the face of the Divine I am truly grateful.

11th anniversary of September 11

September 11. No matter how long ago that horrific event was it still feels like yesterday for me. So I was surprised this morning when I worked out it was 11 years ago today when many of our lives changed. I can remember every detail of what I did that day like it was imprinted on my brain. Is that what happens to us whenever we experience something traumatic in our lives? Are we programmed to not only remember the traumatic event but to remember the lesson from it as well? Is that why trauma comes into our lives?

I think back to the young Bermudian woman who lost her life in the Towers. About how she left here only a few days before to start an internship and never came back. Thinking about how strange life can be sometimes and how when things are meant to happen in our lives, there is nothing that will stop our destiny. Nothing. Reminding me, we are always where we are meant to be.

I thought about all those people who were supposed to be in those towers but for divine reasons were not. About how destiny took them away from those towers because it was not their time. Reminding me again we are always where we are meant to be.

I have several friends who got caught up in the drama as it was unfolding. One who was supposed to be in a meeting in the Towers but the room was double booked so he was moved to a hotel across the street. The trauma he experienced is indescribable. And then a few years later his wife died on September 11 so this date has a significance for him that only he can understand.

Then I have another friend who got caught under the plume of dust and debris that took over the streets when the Towers fell. He was with a friend and they got separated by the plume and they couldn’t breathe as all of a sudden they were shrouded in this darkness that took their breath away. Disorienting them. Making it difficult for them to move on.  But somehow they managed to find each other’s hands and hold onto to each other walking through the darkness without realising whose hand each had grabbed onto. How they staggered along in the plume until they moved a few feet to the side and found themselves out in the light of day again. Stepping out of the plume of darkness and looking around him in a state of disbelief because he realised there had been fresh air and light only a few feet away. Wondering why he had struggled through the dirt and dust fearing for his life when all he had to do was move a few feet to the side.

A life lesson for us all. Here it is the 11^th anniversary of the 11^th of September. When many of us could not believe the coldness of human nature through the terrorist attacks played out before our eyes. When many of us saw the graciousness and kindness of human nature in all those people who risked their lives to save others. When many of us saw even on the calmest and most beautiful day a plume of darkness can come and try to snuff out our light. But it is up to us to keep moving and having faith in order to find our way out of the darkness. Remembering always -  there is always light even on the darkest days.

To the families and friends of all of the people who became angels that day, thanks for allowing us to be reminded that life can change in an instant. To the friends and family who experienced the trauma of the Towers collapsing, may you always remember there is always light even on your darkest days. To all of us may we remember we are always where we are meant to be to learn the lessons we are meant to learn.  And for the significance of this date I am truly grateful.

September 11 a sacred day of remembrance, gratitude and faith.

A Storm and OWN remind me of the importance of surrender

Yesterday I was given one of the greatest gifts and blessings in a long time. I was given a storm which forced me to stay indoors to surrender to the day. And because we were marooned inside we decided that everyone would be able to do what their hearts desired. That meant I got to watch SuperSoul Sunday on Facebook. And what a blessing that turned out to be for me.

Yesterday allowed me to understood there is no such thing as chance. No such thing as luck. Instead life is full of synchronicities that draw us to the place where we are meant to be. I looked out the window at the storm that was blowing outside. Stirring up the atmosphere getting rid of all the old making room for the new. While as I sat safely inside, the same for happening for Oprah and Iyanla on SuperSoul Sunday. I watched the pair of them getting rid of old beliefs and getting rid of old assumptions. Repairing a relationship that needed to be repaired. Listening to each other honestly and openly.

Often with tears in my eyes as I watched two women being honest with each other. Not waiting until they walked away from each other to tear each other apart. Making space for compassion and forgiveness. Empathy and respect. Closing the door to ill will, jealousy and backstabbing. So refreshing.

As I watched these two power houses go through a powerful process of healing I understood that sometimes we have to go out on our own before we are ready so that we may fall publicly. To be humiliated. And the reason we are meant to is to give us the ability to make room within ourselves to learn the lesson we could not before. To learn humility, patience, compassion, forgiveness, and respect. To learn who we are and who we are not. To learn what we are capable of and what we are not.

Sometimes we have to fall as Iyanla did in order to open ourselves to surrender. To, as Oprah and Iyanla showed on SuperSoul Sunday, open our arms wide and surrender to the message of the Universe without any preconceived notions of who we are and who we are meant to be. Only through falling are we able to look up and around  to see  we are not victims. To see  we are creators of our own destiny. To learn we are only hampered  by what we allow to happen to us and we cannot blame anyone but ourselves for where we find ourselves in our lives. BECAUSE WE HAVE ALLOWED IT TO HAPPEN. Invited in with open arms that which is comfortable for us rather than making space for those uncomfortable times that will take us where we need to go and be.

Thank you Universe for bringing me Tropical Storm Leslie and OWN on the same day. For  allowing me the space to understand surrender. To recognise surrender is the process of opening myself up to the lessons I was brought here to learn. Opening myself wide. Letting go of expectations and preconceived notions. For understanding surrendering does not mean giving up and lying down believing we are victims. Not at all. Surrender is the exact opposite.

Surrender means we get up and keep going. Surrender means sending our intentions out into the world. And then we let go by going about being who we are. And when the time is right, when we are ready and when the universe is ready for us, we will get what we desire. 

All will be well

Anticipation. Worrying about what will happen next. Not trying to become too complacent. These are the feelings I am experiencing as a result of Tropical Storm Leslie that became Hurricane Leslie that has once again become Tropical Storm Leslie.

We are all on alert. Everyone trying to predict what she will do when she can’t decide what to do. Sitting almost stationary for a while then moving slowly at her own pace. Clearly being fueled or not fueled by something leaving even the best meteorologists confused. No one knows where she will go or what she will do.

Still on guard just in case. Everyone in a holding pattern. People who were supposed to travel not knowing whether they will be able to get out or not. People who were prepared for the worst are disappointed that she may turn into nothing. Not me.  I am grateful beyond words that she has decided to spare us. When I think back to the long and frightening hours we were pounded by Hurricane Fabian in 2003, I am so relieved and joyous not to have to spend the next 50 hours feeling helpless under the wrath of an unpredictable hurricane.

It is Saturday morning and I am looking out the window watching the dark sky. Almost black at times. I don’t see my morning star Venus. She is obscured by the clouds. Wondering again what Tropical Storm Leslie will do. Fretting about something I have no control over.

And then I saw the image of woman in the clouds. Beautiful - floating past my window with a trail of clouds following her almost as if she was blowing them out. And then a curtain of heavy dark black clouds blanketed the sky. The wind starting to pick up. Trees bending in the breeze.

Dark and ominous clouds with red hues behind them speeding by now with the wind. If nothing else, this hurricane has shown me  life is much easier when we live in the now. Not projecting into the future because it can change by forces that are beyond our control. Not planning beyond the moment we are in right now because that it is all we have control over. 

As if the Universe was trying to affirm my thinking, in the midst of the dark, dark clouds is the shape of a heart, a love heart. And it is full of light letting me know all will be well. All will be well. Birds are now chirping further affirming all will be well as animals disappear when there is bad weather but they are out and chirping letting me know all will be well. All will be well.

And for this blessing and lesson I am truly grateful.

Hurricanes remind me of the oneness that we are

Needless to say I had a restless night the night before last thinking about the pending Hurricane and what it means for my family. Thinking about my children starting their first day of school with a giant hurricane looming. So yesterday morning I got up at 5 having been awake since about 3 and listened. And I could hear the booming ocean through my closed windows. Over the sound of the air-conditioning in my home. Believing the hurricane was slowly but surely making her way towards us. Realising there was nothing I could do except prepare and hope for the best.

I went to the family room window to look out fully expecting to see a stormy sky but what I saw instead was a perfectly starry one. I could see Venus shining brightly in the middle of the other stars. Orion’s belt as clear as day. But there was a red hue in the distance letting me know we were definitely experiencing the calm before the storm.

I went to Yoga at lunch time trying to clear my head of the jumble. Trying to shake the headache with the meditative flow of Yin Yoga. I held those meditative poses  for as long as I could releasing the heat from my body. Allowing space for positive energy to flow back in. Feeling joyous and at peace when I was done.  I felt so much better for taking the time to centre myself. Refocus on the now rather than projecting into something I had no control over. And then I heard the Hurricane was moving further to the East, away from us, sparing us the worst of her wrath. And I was grateful. So grateful.

This morning I got up at 5 and went to the window right away and was greeted by the same starry sky as yesterday morning. The moon so bright it almost felt like someone had turned a light on. There were heavy clouds on the peripherals of the sky indicating all was not as perfect as it seemed. But instead of worrying about what was coming I decided to be grateful for what was right in front of me in that moment. And immediately felt relief flow through me.

I thought about the beautiful day yesterday. My children having a great first day at school. Me going back to work back taking the time to do Yoga and refocus myself. Of all the positive events and people that I came across. I thought about how people tend to look out for each other and reach out to each other whenever there is a hurricane coming. I realised hurricanes come  to help us to clear all the negative energy in ourselves so we can think of all that we have to be grateful for rather than all that we do not.

Hurricanes help to move all the stagnant air in the atmosphere including that which we are producing . They come to help us to begin anew as does everything after the devastation they may cause.  The ocean is still booming. My pressure headache has lessened indicating to me that Hurricane Leslie is not as much a threat to us as she was yesterday. That she has shifted away.  The sky is not yet ominous and I have decided hurricanes are a part of nature just like the most beautiful days are and I am grateful for them all for I know everything has a purpose.

I have decided to contribute to the positive energy that is flowing around my Island home right now. That generosity of spirit and genuine concern for each other that is being shared as we wish each other the best through Hurricane Leslie. And who knows that positive energy alone may push her that much further to the East giving us a reprieve from her wrath. Reminding me always that Nature is all powerful and we are a part of her power. Nature is a part of us and we are a part of nature. The oneness that we are.

Infusing me with the intention to just go with the flow. To enjoy the calm before the storm because this is going to be a long and stormy weekend but nowhere near as bad as we had first anticipated. And I am going to send out as much love and light as I can to the Universe with the hope that my family, our home and my little Island is spared from the wrath of Hurricane Leslie. 

Learning to take heed of nature's warnings

Yesterday morning my husband asked me to come outside and listen to a strange sound. We walked to the back porch and he said, “Listen, can you hear that sound?”

I listened and before I could answer he said, “It sounds like a giant air conditioner.”

“It’s the sound of the ocean booming,” I answered.

“No way,” he said.

“That is definitely the sound of the ocean,” I responded.

And as I listened, I could hear the ocean getting stronger. Hungrier. More aggressive because it is being fuelled by the storm that is heading our way.

Many years before our landlady told us about the sound of the booming ocean. The constant sound of an indescribable noise, almost like a white noise, she told us, is the South Shore building. The direction where the majority of our hurricanes come from is the place that first lets us know that something is crossing her by her changing sound.  Instead of the soothing background noise of the ocean, it becomes more threatening. More prominent. Like a whirring sound. Now that we live near to the South Shore again some 15 years after our landlady had told us about the sound, my husband had forgotten it but I had not.

Still not believing me, my husband decided to drive down to Elbow Beach to see for himself. He came back a little while later and said the water didn’t look that bad but the sound was definitely coming from the ocean. Building, getting stronger. Growing as the storm gets nearer.

Last night Tropical Storm Leslie became a Category 1 hurricane with all the perfect conditions to allow her to grow even stronger before she hits us because she is moving so slowly. And she is forecasted to be a direct hit. A slow moving one at that. So we are in for a long and stormy weekend. We haven’t had a large hurricane like this since Fabian nine years ago when my daughter was only a baby and my son a tot. And we lived in a different home so experiencing a hurricane of this magnitude in this house will be a new experience for us. And honestly, I am a bit nervous but I’m trying to remain calm.

And even if I tried to fool myself into thinking we will not get much of a storm, I know it is going to be bad because yesterday I woke up with a pressure headache. And I still have it today. I only get them when the pressure is dropping outside. Showing how in tune our bodies really are with nature. And nature has been showing us her best – avocado trees fuller than I have ever seen since we moved into this house 5 years ago. Pear trees full of pears. Everything blooming as nature prepares to shed under the weight of the wind. Silk spiders building their nests close to the ground last weekend warning us of a hurricane coming. The ocean booming preparing us for what was crossing her.

Letting me know even before all the modern technology to tell us about pending hurricanes, nature always had a way of forewarning us. Reminding me how important it is to take heed of nature's warnings and signs  because nature is always responding to its changing environment. Altering itself to best survive and thrive. As can we if we take the time to observe and respond accordingly. 

Papa will you read to me please?

“Papa, will you read to me please?” My daughter asked my husband and her father last night and it sent shivers down my spine. Making me realise how quickly the carefreeness of summer had flown by and my children were signalling that it was time to get back to their routines. The ones that make them feel the most comforted. The ones that end their day with sharing.

I had been sitting at my computer trying to decide what to write. What to do next when I heard those words. I listened as my husband hesitated. Not seeing his face but feeling the surprise on his face that he had been asked. Listening to him reply, “Sure, I’ll read to you.” I could feel my daughter’s pleasure through the walls and imagined her snuggling in tight to her papa so she could feel the sound of his voice reverberating through her. Comforting her.

I got up from my computer and walked to my 13 year old son’s room. Opened the door and walked in. He was lying on his stomach reading a book. I hesitated for a moment not sure what to do. He did not turn but I asked hesitantly, “Would you like me to read to you?” He turned and looked at me. Expression confused. “If you want to,” he replied in that 13 year old way that those of us who have adolescents know all too well. And at first I was going to get indignant with him for his sullen reply but cast it aside because of the feeling I had experienced hearing my 9 year old asking to be read to by her father. So I persisted.

“Would you like me to read to you?” I asked again.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Did we finish the last book of Eragon?”I asked.

“No,” he replied.

“Should we finish or should we do something else?”

“No," he said, “I would like us to finish Eragon. I have wanted us to finish it for a long time.”

“So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I thought you were too busy,” he replied.

My heart nearly broke when he said that. Here I was thinking he was thinking he was too old for me to read to him since his sullen moods had escalated. His adolescent noncaring attitude sometimes pushing us apart. But what he wanted more than ever, as did my daughter, was our routines of being read to every night. Somehow we had stopped reading together during the summer holiday. Everyone too busy doing their own thing. Off on our own. Not sharing that end of day intimacy that opens the door for conversations that would not otherwise happen.

I got the book off his desk and sat on the edge of his bed. Close enough that we were touching but not too close to make him feel his space had been invaded. And then I started reading to him. And got the biggest surprise and lesson when I was least expecting it. On the first page of the book, I read a line that was a reminder of a message I had forgotten all about. A message that had been told to me last year during a Reiki session when I was seeking direction and the phrase was, “Choose wisely.” Goosebumps appeared over my arms as I read and reread that phrase several times. Explaining to my son that it was a reminder to me that life is all about the choices we make. And last night I had chosen wisely to read to my son and we both enjoyed every minute of it. Neither of us wanting it to end. Snuggling together reading for over a half hour. Re-establishing that intimacy that we had lost.

Sometimes our children are our angels. Sometimes they are our demons. Always they are here to teach us more about ourselves and themselves. Last night I learnt it is those simple routines that often mean the most to our children. That bring them back into our fold. And I’m glad I took heed of my message last night to choose wisely and I will carry that message with me today and all the days to come because the most rewarding pleasures in life come from the choices we make from the heart.

Erecting walls has become symbolic of the times we live in

Yesterday morning when I was walking, I was shocked to see a gated home with a sign that read, “Entry by appointment only.” I was offended by the sign particularly when I thought back to the Bermuda of my youth when we roamed freely through the hills. Using neighbours’ yards as short cuts. And nothing was private property. Thinking when did my Island home become a place where homes are gated and worse yet when did we become a society that decided we are so important that the only way people can come to visit is by appointment only. When did we start closing ourselves off? Creating an elitist society?

As I walked along, I realised erecting walls has become the new thing in Bermuda. People enclosing themselves from their neighbours. Putting up barriers between each other. Shutting the outside world out. Cocooning ourselves from others. Not knowing who our neighbours are in our quest for privacy and status.

We have moved so far from that society where there were no street names. Where we used to give directions using landmarks such as other people’s homes. Now no one knows who lives where because we are erecting walls. Putting up gates and electric fences. Closing ourselves in. Shutting each other out. Erecting signs that say, “Entry by appointment only.”

We have become so impersonal in our quest for wealth and status that we have forgotten it is our dependence on each other that fuels love and understanding, peace and empathy, openness and compassion. Not walls. Walls only invite in those we do not want. Walls increase our chances of being invaded and broken into. Walls create barriers so our neighbours become our enemies rather than our guardians.

 There was a time not so long ago when everyone in the neighbourhood knew each other. Looked out for each other. Cared enough about each other that there were no door keys because there was always someone in the neighbourhood who knew what was going on. Who kept watch over the neighbourhood, the children, our homes. And no one dared take anything or harm anyone without the grapevine finding out and punishing the culprit. Or even better no one did anything because they did not want to embarrass their families. Now people pull their curtains and turn their backs to the crimes being committed right in front of them because they have been raised to believe it is none of their business. A direct consequence of the walls we are erecting. The barriers we are creating.

By erecting walls and gates and shutting each other out, putting up no trespassing signs and getting angry if anyone intrudes on our space, we are attracting the very danger in that we are trying to keep out. There is nothing more attractive to someone than what they cannot have. The more security we put in, the more likely it is we will be intruded upon. Because the criminals know there is no one watching over the neighbourhood and if they can get over the walls or through the gates no one will see them. Because ironically, they become protected by the very walls we have erected to keep them out. That’s why there are so many more break-ins. Because criminals have grown up seeing no one knows each other anymore. That the dollar is more important than intimacy. That there is no such thing as a true neighbourhood anymore.

Erecting walls is symbolic of the times we are living in because we have become prisoners of our possessions and status. Afraid that one day someone will come along and take them from us so we hide behind our walls. Holding on tight to what we have rather than tearing down the walls and sharing with our neighbours so that information can flow freely again. People will care about each other again. And we can become communities again rather than strangers fighting to keep everyone out. Only then will we be able to go back to the African proverb that says, “It takes a village to raise a child.” Only then will we be set free. Because we will teach our children that no man is an Island. That we are all dependent on each other and with the erection of walls and gates all we are doing is shutting out the possibility that exists beyond our walls.

Sometimes we just have to round the bend

This morning the call of a new day was beckoning me outside. Taunting me. Trying to rouse me out of my comfortable and secure bed. Pulling me. Telling me it was time to get up and enjoy this new beginning. This new day. Letting me know the conditions were perfect for me to start all over again. But I resisted the call. Telling myself instead that it was much cooler inside. Too hot out there and I would ruin my hair. Excuses. Excuses. Telling myself I could not go out in shorts because of the cellulite on my thighs and if I wore long pants I would roast. More excuses. Excuses.

The pull and resistance started at 6.04 and didn’t end until 7.40  when finally my heart won over my ego. When the call of the outside. The call of the new beginning was too powerful for my ego. Too powerful for the darkness that wanted to keep me in the dark. Telling me I wasn’t good enough or didn’t deserve to start the new day with a fresh beginning. My heart filled my soul with love snuffing out the darkness. My ego. Silencing it.

With my ego safely pushed aside, I got up and went to the bathroom. Looked outside the window. What greeted me outside was too perfect for me to resist. Blue skies. Clear. Celeste (as they say in Spanish). Still air. White puffy clouds – the ones that make you believe in magic. The ones you think you could float on and play on. My beautiful orange honeysuckle bush full of orange and vibrant blossoms. Avocado trees full of avocadoes. Abundance all around. Inviting me outside. I exhaled for a long time. Got dressed for a walk and accepted the invitation of the outdoors.

I walked outside and inhaled deeply. Breathing in the crisp fresh morning air. Listening to the sound of a bird whose call I had not heard before and could not identify. Enjoying the newness of its call. And then I just let my feet guide me. Not worrying about my hair getting ruined. Not worrying about the cellulite on my thighs. Not worrying about who saw me that I knew. Pulling my cap over my eyes so I could shut all the unnecessary distractions out. Just allowing my thoughts and feet to take me where they were meant to. As I rounded one of the bends of my walk, the walls and foliage gave way to a panoramic view of the harbour. Calm, peaceful and wide open. As beautiful as a picture and I felt a lump form in my throat. Gratitude spreading through me for the abundance I have in my life and all around me. Accepting and understanding the whole world is out there waiting for me to be whatever I want to be. I just have to have the nerve to round the bend to allow for the wide open spaces and not be afraid of being exposed.

Walking with a new sense of purpose then. Feeling free and glad that I decided to start this new day walking in nature on my own. Taking in all that is alive and well around me. Reminding me so am I. Free to start a new day. A new moment. A new beginning anytime I choose because each moment is a new beginning. And then when I came home I read my quote for the day, “There is a new spring in my step. My life is changing for the better.” And then I exhaled because I am on the right track by getting up every single morning with gratitude and love and going where my heart leads me.

Because there is nothing like the feel of listening to and following our hearts. Nothing at all. 

The blue moon making way for new beginnings

August ended with a blue moon. Making way for a new beginning. A new month. September.  The end of August always signifies the end of summer for me. Making way for fall. When I was young I used to get really sad when I thought of summer ending. Thinking it meant my wings were going to be clipped because I had to go back to school.

Now that I’m older I realise life is a process. A journey. Full of beginnings and endings. Full of people that come into my life for a reason. Sometimes to stay for a short while. Just enough to teach me a lesson. Sometimes there are those that come and go. In and out of my life. Often to reconnect me with myself. To remind me of instances in my life that become pivotal. To remind me of how not to be. And then there are others who are in my life for the duration. Those who stand by me through thick and thin. Those who do not judge me, envy me, or betray me.

When I was younger I used to resent certain people. Feel they were intruding in my space uninvited. Or I used to feel deep hatred toward those who hurt me. Cutting them off. Believing they were no good to me. But as I have grown older and begun to explore my feelings and the world a bit more, I realise that every single one of those people that came and come into my life are there to teach me a lesson. Some to teach me how to be. Others to teach me how not to be.

So I no longer hold resentment to anyone for long periods of time. Sure I feel hurt when I discover the true nature of people. I feel the pain deep in my gut because I am human and I do have feelings. But what I tell myself is this too shall pass. And I tell myself regardless of how much someone has hurt me, they have actually been sent as my angel. I realise they are here to either force me to face my shadow self – exposing my flaws to me and asking me to examine my own motives and correct them. Or they are here to expose me to my spiritual self – the one that is here to bring love, light, compassion, empathy and understanding to myself and to those I encounter.  And then I accept the lesson. The hardest lesson being the one that hurts me the most and I breathe through it quietly thanking the Universe and the person for helping me. And invariably, in time, the pain eases. The person no longer bothers me and eventually if they are meant to, they disappear or change. Not because I forced them to change but because I changed the way I reacted to them by releasing my attachment and expectations of them. Only then does my pain disappear completely but the lesson always remains.

Just like August has ended signalling the ending of summer. And September has started signalling the beginning of school for my children and the coming of fall, there is a time and place for everything and everyone. Sometimes people are meant to be in our lives forever and other times they are not. It is up to us to learn the lessons they bring so we will be able to distinguish between those who are meant to be in our lives for the duration and those who aren’t. Loving them and letting them go just the same. I try to teach this lesson to my children every single day particularly when they are hurting about people that have hurt them. And one day hopefully they will learn through my example that they can’t hold on to pain that is caused by something beyond their control because all they will be doing is inviting in the same pain and not being able to move beyond to find out how they are meant to be and, more importantly, how they are not meant to be.

In life there is a season for everything and everyone. Sometimes we’re up and sometimes we’re down. But if we remain full of forgiveness, full of love, full of compassion and full of empathy, in time all will be revealed to us. Only then will we see life is a journey. A process. Full of beginnings and endings.