Category Archives: fear

Finding your strength

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“It doesn’t take a lot of strength to hang on, it takes a lot of strength to let go.” ~ J.C. Watts

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I was born a “fixer” and, until a few years ago, I had spent a great deal of my time taking on other people’s burdens as my own.  But something shifted in the paradigm of my reality when I got divorced in 2012.  I realized I was spending too much of my time trying to change a life that was not mine to change.  I was hanging on to problems that irrevocably had impact on my life but I had no power to solve.  I needed to let go.  But I was so stuck in the pattern of my life that I didn’t know how to let go.  I wanted so desperately for things to work out in my life that I honestly thought that this was the syllabus of my future.

It takes a monumental amount of courage to walk away from a relationship that you have put your heart and soul into but a relationship has to give you what you need for it to be successful.  By its very definition, a relationship is a form of communication.  Wants and needs are expressed and, in a healthy relationship, are reciprocated without condition.  Such was not the case for me and I knew it.  I felt it deep within myself but it took me a long time to admit it because to do that would have made me feel like I had failed.  But I had only failed myself by not seeing the signs sooner and listening to that nagging inner voice.

I finally found the nerve to put my needs first and, in finally letting go, I gave myself permission to define myself according to my needs and not the needs of anyone else.  The strength to hang on was easy, it was my comfort zone, but finding the strength to let go made me feel eviscerated, vulnerable and it was not something I was accustomed to.

I wanted to write this post because I have friends now in the situation in which I found myself years ago.  I want them to know that letting go is not always the easy choice, but it may be the right choice, for them.   It may be hard to listen to that petulant voice in your head, but that voice is the most sincerely honest advice you will ever get.

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Don’t give up easily.  If it is worth the fight, than fight, fight like your life depends on it.  But if you know in your heart that nothing will ever change, let go, let go like your life depends on it.

Finding light in the darkness

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“What happened in the past that was painful has a great deal to do with what we are today.” ~ William Glasser

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Looking back at my past, I can almost see the lines in the distance of the paths that I have chosen.  They are faint in the waning light but the traces are still visible.  Those lines, those roads I chose to follow, helped to carve the figure of the person I am now.

Along that road not everything was painful but I can say that those arduous moments gave me more definition as a person than the happier, less stressful times.  Those darker moments made me a stronger version of myself.  Those difficult stages during my life gave me the tenacity and the persistence to overcome obstacles that I may not have been able to cope with had my life been easier.

It is how we carry ourselves through the difficult moments that gives us our strength.  It is how we persevere through misfortune that builds our character.  I am who I am because of what I have experienced.  I am a better version of the me I could have been because I endured pain and suffering.  I made a point to learn from it and now my inner light far outweighs any of the darkness from my past.

It`s one day after the 12th

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Friday-the-13th

I have never been a superstitious person.  I’m not afraid to have a black cat cross paths with me.  I do use caution around ladders but that is more of a safety issue rather than a superstition.  And I certainly don’t believe that I will have 7 years of bad luck if I have the misfortune of breaking a mirror into tiny shards of reflective glass.  I will, however, have 7+ horrible minutes of clean up!!

Bad luck seems to be brought on by bad attitudes.  If I had woken up this morning in a state of panic because of the calendar date, I’m sure some incident would have befallen me and I would undoubtedly have had people tell me it is a result of the dreaded Friday the 13th.  I arose this morning as I always do.  I put on my jeans the same one leg at a time.  There were no black crows eyeballing me from the top branch of their perch, screeching raptor-like obscenities and warning me to stay indoors.

Did you know that historically there have been fewer car accidents on this day because people exercise so much more caution or don’t drive at all?  The irrational fear that this day imposes is an interesting phenomenon.  People have such an overwhelming fear of the 13th day of the month falling on a Friday but never really take the time to ask themselves why they have this fear.   If you reflect on your childhood, somewhere along your journey, the superstition was unwittingly passed on to you.  The moment that seed was planted, it matured into an irrational fear and has embedded its roots into your psyche.  I’m a firm believer that we make our own luck.  If you think bad things will happen on Friday the 13th then they probably will.

Friday the 13th has never imposed any ugliness on me but I also impress nothing put positive thoughts on it.  It is just another day.   If Friday the 13th is your ‘monster in the closet’ – lock that closet door and throw away the key.  It holds no more power than what you allow it to have.

Are you superstitious or was today just another day…

When did I become THIS person?

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I would never have described myself as being overly adventurous in my youth.  I wasn’t afraid to try new things in my teens and early twenties but my limits for risky undertakings were much higher then and now my willingness to live on the edge (or a reasonable facsimile of the edge) has completely diminished.

I have not felt the desire for wanderlust that seems to be an affliction for so many of my friends.  I am content to live vicariously through the tales of their adventures and to witness their triumphs through the photographic journey that they provide as a backdrop for the narrative of their experience.

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I have always been a homebody.  I prefer a “staycation” to a long line in an airport terminal with the risk of acquiring some form of contagious bacteria to bring home as a souvenir.  I would not go so far as to say that I have become a recluse but the evidence is mounting and the verdict could completely contradict my argument for my defense.

Where once I would brave the terrain and the elements, I now shy away from driving in bad weather.  I don’t like driving at night anymore because my eyesight feels somewhat compromised in the dark and I make the excuse that it is for the safety of the other drivers on the road.  And I shrink into my couch every time gale force winds undulate through the bare branches and howl outside of my window.

But I have come to realize that my plight is not one of fear.  It is one of freedom.  I have allowed myself to be just that, myself.  I am not going to jump behind the wheel of my car because someone thinks I am paranoid and I want to prove them wrong.  I make no excuses.  I ask for no sympathy.  I simply live the way I want to live.  I am quite content to sit in my living room with my computer in my lap and blog about the fact that I am comfortable becoming THIS person.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It takes all kinds….

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I have never been one to shy away from using my voice.  I have learned over the years that having an opinion is the backbone of our individuality.  Our beliefs and ideals are just that, ours.   We have a right to share them and we have the intelligence to know that not everyone will agree with them.

Social media has taken our tiny platform from parties and get-togethers to an extreme level and our opinion, should we choose to voice it, is subject to a wide array of conjectures and unpredictable feedback.  These days there is a very thin line between anything and political correctness.

Lately, I think twice before I post an update on my page or even post a response to someone else’s post. For every nine people who simply click the thumbs-up button to give you a like, there is that one person who can turn a simple post into their newest crusade.  They will mock you for posting it, they will admonish those who liked it and they will go to great lengths to channel their strong feelings and bestow their opinion upon everyone else.

Yes, some posts and memes can cross a line or two…but are we not allowed to maintain some sense of humor in light of what is going on in the world these days?  If we dissect everything we see and find offence in the slightest bit of offside rhetoric, we are bound to be very unhappy people in the near future.

I have a very open mind and a very twisted sense of humor and there are things on social media that I have found to be distasteful, even repugnant, but I have not ostracized the person who posted it….I have merely moved on and chosen not to engage in a conversation that wasn’t worth having.

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My mother used to say, “it takes all kinds to make the world go around”.   Now, more than ever, I know what she meant.  But it also takes all kinds to show some compassion and understanding and realize that we are all entitled to our own opinion without fear of recrimination.

 

Be the change you wish to see in the world

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I never used to be one who could sit and watch the news on television and that habit has not drastically changed over the years.  I have not ignored the reality of what is happening in the world.  I have merely chosen to moderate how much negative energy I will allow inside the walls of my home.  And with the most recent barrage of cynicism and hostility that has been taking centre screen on every news feed across the world, I choose, for the most part, to tune it out.

Don’t misunderstand me….I will still have a modicum of knowledge when it comes to current events, but I cannot subject myself to hearing the same stories told by a select number of news anchors who beat the same dead horse over and over again.  Instead, I choose to take my positive energy and inject it back into my reality.

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There is some debate as to whether or not it was Mahatma Gandhi who quoted the subject line of this post but, regardless of its origin, it holds a strong place in my resolve to make a difference, if not in the world as a whole, at least in my world.  And with so much hate bubbling to the surface in the current political climates, I have resolved to love what matters.

If I think of myself as a fraction of the population of the planet, I am an infinitesimal part of the equation.  But if I simply see myself as a fraction of my community, my significance becomes notably more meaningful.  Perhaps I cannot make a difference on a global scale but I can certainly try to make a difference within the boundaries of my geography and that is what I am trying to do.

The world can only be changed by example, not by opinion.  And now, more than ever, the world really needs us to be the change we wish to see.

 

 

 

 

An open world begins with an open mind

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I saw this video on Facebook.  Every so often, after spending countless minutes of looking at absolute crap, you stumble on something that is absolutely worth watching.  And after watching this video, which is more of a summation of a few people, I continued down the line and watched all of the individual videos that were posted.  I was in tears after watching this video.  I was sobbing at the end of last one I watched.

But the tears I shed weren’t specifically about the videos.  The tears I shed were about the message that I got from watching the reaction of each person as they found out they weren’t exactly who they thought they were.  Each of the participants were so adamant about their background that they had all but dismissed any other reality….until they got their results.

The message in this experiment is one I wish we could spread across the planet.  And this test is one that I wish WAS made mandatory for everybody.  Finding out you share DNA with someone you have been historically trained to hate, not as a person but as a race, religion or belief, would be a hard pill to swallow.  But that pill could possibly begin to cure the current pandemic  called Hate.

 

 

 

We the people….

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Close up of the Constitution of the United States of America with quil feather pen

We the people – three words at the beginning of a document meant to bring together and not divide a nation.

As a Canadian, I have felt the need to hold my tongue about what has recently happened south of our border.  It is not my place to make judgement since I do not live in that country and I did not cast a vote in their election.  But what happens in the United States affects me, not as a citizen but, as a human being.

What is currently taking place in a country that is my neighbour, that is home to many of my friends and some of my family, is unsettling.  I am not writing this blog post with any political view in mind.  My beliefs bear no consequence on the words that I am about to write.  I am simply afraid that a door has been opened that may require many years to close again.

I am friends with some who support Trump and I am friends with some who support Clinton.  Their choices are none of my business and the least of my concerns.  My worries stem from the divide that has now been created, and that gash in humanity has allowed hatred and idiocy to bubble through its fissure of common sense.

Regardless of the outcome of the recent election, we are all still members of the human race.  We have made leaps and bounds over the years to become a diverse and accepting population but lately it seems the masses are not listening to understand, they are merely listening to reply and have their own voices heard above the crowd.

My heart weighs heavy in my chest tonight and my brain is riddled with concern.  Where does our collective society go from here?  Will it one day wake up from its hangover, shake it off and say “What were we thinking”?  Or is this the beginning of a binge….a need to test the limits of humanity to see how much it can get away with before justice finally catches up with it?

We, the people, may not all live inside of the borders of the “united” states.   But we, the people, at least the people I have in my circle of friends, live as equal members of the human race and are very simply seeking liberty and justice for all.

 

What is THIS lovely fragrance?

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There was no sweetness.  There were no flowers.  And the only thing that was stolen was my breath.   What began as a restful few hours between a long day and an abbreviated sleep turned into a rolling profusion of expletives followed by a few moments to regain my sense of composure.

On any other occasion, these moments could have been used to describe a much more pleasurable evening.  What really happened will live in my mind, and my nasal cavity, for years to come.

It was a routine outing.   Callaway never strays far from the house for her late night relief before bedtime so I didn’t think twice about opening the door to let her out.   But I certainly thought twice about opening the door to let her in when the pungent stench of skunk met the sensory cells of my nose.  She looked extremely pleased with herself and I’m certain she sensed that I was not so pleased.

I scoured the cupboards for the age-old remedy of tomato juice but came up empty-handed.  I glanced at the clock and it read 10:30 pm, so a trip to the local, small town grocery store was out of the question.  I then relied on the only endless source of information I had readily available – Facebook.

As much as I have expounded in great detail about this social media icon being a complete mind sucking website – it became my lifeline and my hero.   After a bath of Hydrogen Peroxide, baking soda and dish soap, the putrid odor dissipated to the point that I could tolerate her and allow my dog to come inside.   Since I would never leave her out at night, I wrapped her in blankets to help her dry off and put her to bed.

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The “lovely fragrance” still lingers on my dog and in my house.  And I’m sure it will be a phantom smell that follows me for months.  But I have since forgiven her for the reminder that she is more canine than human, and she has forgiven me for forgetting that she is a dog and that she will continue to behave as a dog.   Lessons learned…..and from now on, we walk together….Callaway on a leash, and me with a flashlight looking for any eyes in my peripheral that may pose an olfactory threat!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What’s a few grey hairs between friends?

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The grey whiskers appeared almost overnight.   In the blink of an eye, my dog had matured beyond the youthful puppy I have known for 9 years.  Sure she still has the spunk of a young pup on occasion but I can slowly see time creeping up on her faster than I would like it to.

My solace lies in the fact that our affection for each other is timeless.   Her devotion to me, whether her joints are currently aching and she has no desire to jump on my bed, is endless.  She is, and will continue for years to be, my true companion.   She is happy to see me when I have returned home after four hours or four minutes.  She never judges my idiosyncrasies and she still manages to hear my soft sobs when I am trying to quietly cry and she comes to clean away the salty tears.

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I thought my life was full before she came along.   I was dead wrong.  We have always had dogs.  Growing up, my life was filled with hairballs and doggy kisses.   But Callaway is a unique soul.   There is not a doubt in my mind that she was meant to be my dog.   The picture we fell in love with on the adoption website (the one above) was a picture of her brother but it was Callaway who came into my life and into my heart.  I fought for her during my divorce because I couldn’t imagine my house without her in it.

I know I must face the inevitable – time will not go backwards and those grey hairs on her muzzle will slowly multiply, but so will the grey hairs on my head.  We will face this truth together knowing that however long we were destined to be in each other’s lives, we will make the most of each moment.