It's the first day of June

It’s the first day of June today. Another new month to explore. Another new beginning. Reminding me that there are new beginnings every time we wake up in the morning. Every time we turn the page on something in our lives.

Every time a new month comes along I am reminded of how quickly life is slipping by. How time is not waiting for me or for anyone else. It is ticking along because that’s what it does. Can you believe we are halfway through this year already? I can’t. I remember the beginning of the year coming around and I was thinking about what lay ahead for me. Instead of focusing on what was right in front of me.

And now here it is six months gone and I realise I still have so much living to do. So much possibility I have yet to explore because I think I have so much time to do it in. But time is reminding me I don’t if I don’t seize the moment. Be in the moment.

 I woke up to the sound of pouring rain for the first of June contrary to all the weather reports . Reminding me that we can not predict Mother Nature. She is as temperamental as it comes. Surprising us when we least expect.

I am looking out the window and it is grey, pouring with rain and not a glimmer of sunlight anywhere. The sound of the rain coming and going. Sometimes thunderous.  Other times delicate.  And whenever it stops I can hear the sound of nature coming alive. The tree frogs singing. The birds chirping back and forth. Their volume increases after each downpour. Relief mixed with joy is the sound.

Making me question whether their volume has increased or is it just that I can hear them again because there is a change in sound. Have they been singing all along but because they are constant background noise I don’t hear them unless there is a change?

Is this my lesson for today? That sometimes we have to remember and appreciate what’s there in the background every single day. Not take it for granted. Not dismiss its importance or presence. Are the things in the background of our lives there to provide a touchstone for us all? To remind us we need them in our lives every day to remain focused. Constantly there even when all else around us is changing.

It’s dark and rainy outside on this first day of June. The month when Spring gives way to Sumner. When Hurricane season officially starts. When heat unlike any other comes rolling in. When the longest daylight of the year occurs. And then it gradually gets shorter each day thereafter.

And today is not what I expected reminding me to expect the unexpected and just go with it. Feel it. Ride it. Live it and be grateful for every unexpected moment as well as expected ones. Here’s to a month of change – the only constant in our lives. And here’s to the pouring rain. Background characters, sounds and things that ground us. Keep us focused.

Here’s to the month of June. Whatever it may bring. Miracles. Surprises. Magic. Shifts. The Expected and Unexpected.  And the Unexplained.

Surrendering to the rose pink of the evening and morning

Last evening I sat at my desk at home staring out the window. Watching the sky change from blue to grey to hints of red as the sun began to fade for the day. Making way for the darkness to take over from the light. The natural progression of time.

I watched the stillness of the air. Trying to still my racing brain. Trying not to think about anything but just focusing on the puffy red clouds floating past. Trying to release one thought that was bombarding my mind at a time as each puffy cloud floated by.

Thinking of the Yoga class I had done at lunchtime and the Yoga teacher telling us to just surrender to the poses we were in. Remembering how good it felt to release the tensions I felt when I surrendered into the poses. Remembering the feeling of heat rushing through me when I did. Releasing out into the air. Thinking all I have to do is surrender to this moment. And just sit and watch the stillness and settling of the evening.

As nature was making way for the night to come in. Letting its natural order unfold.  No fuss. Not trying to deny it. Just letting it gently roll in as it was meant to do.

And then I thought why is it that nature lets the natural order of things happen on its own. It does not try to superimpose anything that is not meant to be there. So why do we? Nature doesn’t panic because there is a drought or there is too much rain or it is too cold or it is too hot. It just adjusts itself according to the situation it finds itself in and goes with the flow. It surrenders to its circumstances no matter how threatening those circumstances may be. Because it knows this too shall pass.

So why can’t we? Why do we make life so complicated and difficult? Layering challenge after challenge on top of each other. Trying so hard to make ourselves appear to be busy, stressed and overwhelmed as if they are badges of our worth.

When in fact what would serve us better would be to embrace each moment in our lives. Slowing down sometimes to stare out the window and watch the wonders of nature unfold. Watch the day turn into night. Listen to the birds doing their evening call. Listen to our children playing. Accept that it is okay sometimes to just surrender and be still.

And then we will see and understand that it is in the moment of our surrender that we understand we are a part of something so magical. So wonderful. So abundant. And we will inhale and exhale with gratitude as our bodies, minds and souls remember we are all here for a reason. We are all necessary. And if we stopped searching all the time for the next best thing and instead focused on the beauty and magic that unfold before us each and every day we would know to be patient and accepting because our lives, just like nature, are unfolding as they are meant to.

This morning I am staring out the window at the breaking dawn. The sky reminding me so much of the twilight sky the evening before that I feel as if I am in the same moment as I was last evening. But I know it’s different because it’s another day and time. Reminding me that even when we feel we have not progressed because everything feels and looks the same, nothing is ever the same because we change every second, every minute, every hour of every single day. And just like nature and time we just have to roll with it. Surrender to it. Enjoy our stillness whenever we can. Give ourselves time to breathe and appreciate so we can see there is enough in this world for each one of us to be all we can be.

Why birthdays are special to me

Yesterday someone told my daughter for religious reasons she does not celebrate birthdays and she does not see any point in celebrating them because all we’re doing is getting older.

To say I was horrified that someone could try to steal the magic and innocence from my child on her birthday is an understatement. Particularly since my daughter was so excited about turning 9. And so excited to be considered special. It didn’t seem to bother her on the surface but I knew it had had a profound effect on her because she repeated the comments to me.

I did not want to seem like I was being judgemental of the person to my daughter because the person that said it, did not say it with malice. She said it because that’s what she believes and she has every right to believe what she wants. And I also did not want to steal any more thunder from my daughter’s special day.

So I thought about how to talk to her about the comments very carefully. I took a deep breath then went deep within. Allowing that place of quiet to help me to find peace with the person’s comments. Sifting  through the messages that were flowing through my wind. Trying to find an answer that would not appear to be judgemental of the person but at the same time still made my daughter feel special.

Then the answer came as clear as day to me. I told my daughter with conviction, love and truth, “The reason why we celebrate birthdays is because we are celebrating getting older. Celebrating being given the gift of time. Celebrating waking up to another day on this Earth. Of being given the opportunity to be more. Do more. Give more. Love more. And to be grateful for all the abundance we have in our lives.”

I told her aging is not something to fear because it is something we all do. Something that we cannot defy except when we die. And even then we are not defying the process of aging; we are merely succumbing to the next stage of our development and growth.

My daughter didn’t answer me but I could tell from her expression that she got what I said. That she appreciated what I said. And you know what I learnt something to in the process because I realised it’s aging that reminds me of how wise I am becoming with each birthday that comes and goes. My birthday allows me to reflect on from whence I have come to where I am on my date of birth. It is a day of remembrance that I came here from an act of love and I am here for a reason. 

May we continue to see and celebrate many more birthdays if that is our so desire.

The gift of possibility, motherhood and womanhood all wrapped in one

Today is the day my beautiful daughter arrived in my life nine years ago. Eight days early. Eyes wide open. Shooting across the table. Making her entrance into the world. Crawling up my belly feeding right away. Determined. Knowing exactly what she wanted and did it. Showing me her personality right away. And true to form that’s exactly what she is like to this day.

Nine years ago, my daughter taught me an invaluable lesson. She taught me through the way she came into this world that anything is possible.

My son had to be born via C-Section because he started to come fifteen days early then changed his mind and decided to go back so they had to perform an emergency C-Section to deliver him. Devastating me. But at the same time I was happy to have a healthy child. 

Four years later, my daughter decided to come eight days early but then wasn’t sure either. I was forty years old. My water had broken but not in the same gushing way that it had done with my son. I was on my way to playground duty at my son’s school when I felt a trickle so we dropped our son off to school then went to the hospital not sure if I was having our baby or not.

My water had broken we discovered but I had no labour pains. No labour at all. So I had to walk around the hospital all day waiting for something to happen. Nothing happened. My doctor decided that after 12 hours they didn’t want the baby to stay inside me for any longer with my water haven broken. So she gave me the choice of having another C-section, which was highly recommended by everyone because of my age and the fact I had had a C-Section with my son, or I could be induced to try to have the baby naturally.

The nurses explained the potential complications that could result if I was induced after having a C-section. Particularly with a woman my age. My husband didn’t want me to have any complications so he was trying to convince me to have the C-section. But I was determined to have my daughter naturally. I knew I was never going to have another baby and I wanted to experience what it was like to have a baby in the way we are meant to have them.

So despite protests by everyone, I decided I wanted to be induced. I put myself into a meditative state. Asked the Universe for the strength to bring my daughter. Called upon the power of all the women who had laboured and birthed before me to help me deliver a healthy baby. Asked the spirit of my mother to help me to bring my daughter into this world. Talked to my unborn daughter asking her to come to me naturally.

At 9pm on Wednesday night I walked into my birthing room, complete with a photo of my mother as my focal point. Soft music playing in the background. Candles flickering in the background and my husband by my side. My son safely at home with a good friend of ours. And closed my eyes and waited. The nurses gave me a minor dose of pitocin to induce my labour. One hour went by and nothing happened.

Ten o’clock they came back and tried to once again convince me to have a C-Section. They were worried about what could happen to me if they increased the dosage. My husband was worried. But I was determined to try so I said no I wanted the increased dosage of pitocin. So they upped it and then within an hour  a pain so intense hit me that I instantly and instinctually grasped my husband around his neck and squatted. After the pain subsided I swayed my hips from side to side. I had read that by doing that my daughter would stay in the correct  position to be birthed. And each time thereafter when the pain came I squatted. Within an hour and a half I was fully dilated and ready to push her out.

Forty five minutes later after being told to sit by my obstetrician, at 12.45 am on the Thursday, my daughter made her grand entrance into the world by shooting across the table. Letting out a mighty cry. Looking around the room. Taking everyone and everything in. The relief and pride that filled my body, mind and soul is like nothing I can ever explain. But even as I am typing I can still feel the sensation of that accomplishment flowing through me. I felt like an Amazon woman. Like there was nothing I could not accomplish in this world. Like I had been given the greatest gift as a woman. To be able to bring my daughter into this world in the way my body, the body of every woman, is designed to do was a huge triumph for me.

I yelled, “I did it!” And tears flowed down my face from sheer joy. They placed her on my stomach and she pushed her way up my belly attaching herself to my breast and started to feed. A miracle in itself. I was euphoric and so was my husband.

My daughter’s entrance  into this world reminded me of what I am capable of when I set my mind to it. When I follow my intuition. When I do what feels right for me not what everyone else wants me to do. And to her I am truly grateful.

Happy Birthday to my beautiful girl who came into this world eyes wide open, ready to take it on, giving me the best gift any woman can ask for. The gift of  possibility, motherhood and womanhood all wrapped in one.

The greatest lessons often come from our emotional outbursts

Monday morning Blues. When the weight of the world seems to rest on my shoulders. When the power woman starts to emerge suffocating the creative one. When my brain goes into overdrive projecting into moments that have not even happened yet. Taking my breath away. Making me worry.

I woke up this morning feeling the heat. Not a physical heat but a mental heat. Worried about what the day will bring. Worried about what tomorrow will bring. Worried about what the week will bring. Worried about my future.

Worried about wasting time and not doing what I am meant to be doing. Hearing the alarm clock go off even though I was awake way before it went off. Waiting for it to go off then when it did turning it off and still not getting out of bed. Still not ready to face the day because of the heat that was coursing through my body.

Staring at the minutes ticking by. Trying to steal as many moments as I could in bed where it is safe. Where I don't have to make any decisions. Where no one is watching me with disapproval or expectation.

Allowing my eyes to close again and before I know it fifteen minutes had slipped by. Jumping up startled when I see how quickly time has passed me by. Worried that I wasted precious time to do what I love to do most write and explore my feelings. Harnessing them to see where I am.

Remembering the exchange I had with my son last night about his fears of failing. About him not wanting to try because he was afraid that if he did he would fail. Telling him emphatically that the greatest failure in life is when he doesn’t do at all. My whole body shaking in anger as I told him, rather judgementally as I reflect back, that failure does not come from trying and not succeeding.  It comes from not trying at all.

Realising that the reason I reacted so explosively to him was because he was mirroring what was going on inside me. He was my teacher rather than me being his. Knowing I must apologise to him today to tell him that he taught me and reminded me that I am a product of my failures and my successes. For reminding me I would never know who I am or what I am capable of if I did not try.

Lying in bed. Grouchy about Monday morning. Not attempting. Hiding on the sidelines. None of these choices are good ones for me or for my son or for anyone if we are ever to find what it is we need in life. Mediocrity does not allow us to blossom. It just creates frustration. Jealousy and stagnation. Because we never know our powers until we try. Until we fail. And try again. Until we find the path that feels right for us.

So here’s to Monday morning blues pushed aside and me out of bed looking out the window at the possibility that exists out there and in my mind when I try not when I let life slip me by.

There is good and evil in us all

There is good and evil in all of us. Depending on where we are in life. Where we are in our growth. What lessons we are meant to learn. How strong our ego is versus our inner compass.
Last night my daughter and I went to see the Broadway show, Wicked. And I was pleasantly surprised by the message I took away from it. I was fully expecting it to be trite and in some places it was. But what came across clear as day to me was the dichotomy of human nature.
Wicked is a fictional story about how Alphaba, the "evil witch" became known as the "Wicked Witch" and how Glinda, the "good witch" became known as the  "Good Witch". And essentially the story is about how perception, prejudiceness, beliefs and lack of exposure and education can colour our view of people, places and things without us fully understanding why. Wicked is a parody about life. About our insecurities. About ego.
Alpahaba was conceived in an affair between the Governor's wife and a young man who went on to become the Wizard of Oz. So she carried genes from the human world and the magic world. Hence she came out green - different from anyone else. And she had these special powers that she did not understand nor could she contain because they only manifested when she was provoked or made angry. Because she was green and because her powers manifested when she was angry she thought she was evil and so did her parents.  And so did everyone she met. She was never loved by her father and was blamed for all the evil that fell upon her family.
And then  there was Glinda, the perfect blond, with the perfect upbringing. The one who got everything she wanted because of the way she looked and her status in life. She was manipulative and cunning but because of how the world views people that look like her and come from the "right background" as she did, she was able to make people believe she was good even when she was looking them in the face while simultaneously stabbing them in the back.
Alphaba and Glinda were thrust upon each other in school and were forced to become roommates by the Headmistress, who was manipulating everyone to sanitize the world in the way she thought fit.
It was only after being forced together that they realised they were good and evil at the same time. All Alphaba wanted was to be loved and accepted. Instead of being thought of as a freak. Glinda wanted and expected to be a star because that's what life had made her believe.
The headmistress saw the powers in Alphaba and immediately took her before The Wizard of Oz who had no powers at all. But needed someone to carry out his and the headmistress's plans to sanitize the world. And they saw it in Alphaba. But Alphaba having being ostracised for the majority of her life wanted no parts in helping to do the same to others who were like her. She wanted the world to have people and animals from all different walks of life. She wanted the different and unusual to remain and to be accepted. She wanted to be thought of as good. Not evil. But what they expected of her was to be evil so she ran away.
It was only then that the headmistress devised a plan to have the world believe that Alphaba was evil and spread the word throughout the land. Before long, everyone feared Alphaba. Her name became  synonomous with everything that was evil. Easily done because of the way she looked. Forcing Alphaba into hiding.
Glinda emerged as the star she always wanted to be. The Good Witch. The Beautiful Witch pitted against her only true friend. Eventually Glinda betrayed Alphaba by telling the Headmistress how she could capture Alphaba when she discovered the man she loved, loved  Alphaba instead.
Glinda was reeling from having something go against her wishes. She was not used to that feeling. And what she discovered was that she was a sore loser and did not like being second best. Despite loving Alphaba she loved herself more and betrayed her best friend. Handing her over to the people. Who threw cold water on her and she evaporated never to be seen again.
Wicked is all about how the ego can shroud our vision. How it can easily obscure the good in all of us and push to the forefront the evil that lurks deep within us all. Ego is what makes us want to be number one at the expense of everything and everyone and leaves us feeling empty inside.
It is also the story of how easily we can be manipulated by heresay rather than trusting our own inner voices. It is about judgement and condemnation prior to even knowing the truth. It is a wonderful story for us all to remember that every single one of us has a story to be told. A life that is the result of our upbringing, surroundings, looks, and belief systems. A life where we want to be accepted, acknowledged and loved and we all have to be careful about judging before we know someone else's true story.
Wicked was a reminder to me that the green eyed monster of the ego is always lurking beneath the surface waiting to be manipulated by the puppet master who needs it the most. Remembering there is good and evil in each one of us. And in order to be balanced we must learn compassion, understanding and patience. Because the tables are always turned so we can feel the same pain we are inflicting on others. And vice versa.

Walking in the rain with the one I love

Yesterday was Bermuda day. The day my little Island comes together to celebrate what it means to be in Bermuda. When the Island comes together to watch the half marathon which attracts people from all walks of life, races, nationalities, cultures and ages. And this year was a huge success with over 800 people taking part. There are fitted dinghy races and the Bermuda Day Parade – when Front Street is closed down to traffic and floats, dancers and others take to the streets to celebrate. A day when there is something for everyone.

I woke up yesterday morning with the intention of going with my family to watch the runners. None of my family was interested in going. So I decided to use going to the race as my exercise for the day. I walked down to Crow Lane. Standing with friends  I had not seen for a while. Surrounded by a multitude of people that matched the runners – people of different ages, races, nationalities, and cultures. All gathered in the spirit of cheering on the runners. Starting the day off with joy.

I soaked in the positive energy that everyone was exuding. Looking at the faces of everyone and seeing the pure joy, happiness and anticipation on their faces. Feeling that everyone had let go of all their trails, tribulations, worries, fears and apprehensions to be in the moment. To lend support to those who had chosen to run. Feeling the energy of the crowd transferring from one person to the other building on the joy. Knowing that we are all capable of experiencing joy in our lives when we shift our energy. When we focus on the good rather than the bad. When we support rather than take away.

After watching the runners come through, I started my walk back home. Full of love and joy. As I walked I felt little sprinkles tickling my body. I watched as the day became darker by the minute as black and heavy rain clouds took over the sky. As I walked further away from the crowd, the heavens opened and the rain came down in buckets. Pelting me furiously. Relentlessly.

Within seconds I was soaked to the skin. There was nothing I could do to change the situation. Nowhere to hide from the rain. So I decided to just go with it. And then the worry I had initially about getting wet, about ruining my hair, about being splashed vanished and was replaced with a euphoria that I can’t explain.

I started singing, “Walking in the rain with the one I love. Feels so fine.” I listened to the pounding rain all around me. The splashing of vehicles as they went by.  The sound of my voice singing. And then I stopped thinking why in the world am I singing about walking in the rain with the one I love when I am on my own. But the song kept coming back to me. Haunting me. Filling me with pure joy.

And then as the rain came down even harder. As my vision became obscured. As cars drove by and splashed me from head to toe, suddenly I knew and understood why. I was in fact walking in the rain with the one I love. I was walking with myself. My whole self. Taking in the rain. Feeling it filling my soul. The tanks of all those Bermudians who had prayed for rain. Filling my heart.

And then the rain and I became one as I expressed my gratitude to it for reminding me that even on the darkest and dreariest days, there is always sunshine. There is always joy. There is always someone to love. Because I am love. And I am always where I am meant to be.

When I walked up the stairs to my house, my front door opened. And there standing waiting for me was my family. My children and husband  looking at me with both concern and amusement. My husband handing me a towel. All of us laughing at the state I was in.

I stepped out of my wet clothes. Out of the wet outside. Bringing with me the joy and love I had experienced in the rain to my family as I wrapped myself in the towel. Closing the door to the outside and the rain.  But bringing the lesson with me to my family. Feeling totally and wholly loved and satisfied. Full of joy. 

What a wonderful Bermuda day.