Category: morning missives

Mother’s Day

A rush of emotion today. I first became a mom almost 28 years ago-

I made one of the best and hardest decisions of my life. That child has grown to a fine man, and I am forever grateful to the Mom I chose for him, she is the template I strive to emulate.

13 years ago, the little bean in my belly was months away from being born, and today my gratitude for the beautiful soul that chose me only grows. There’s been challenges, mistakes, adventures, laughter and frustrations but all of it with love.

36 years ago, the two women who raised me, were lost to me. My Mom and my Nan went to summerland when I was 12, but I can still recall smells, touches, snippets of wisdom and silliness ( although the true sound of the voices are but phantoms). My Nan’s wisdom and curiosity reside in my heart and soul. My Mom’s love and humour I imagine are woven into my life’s armour.

There have been women in my life who have mothered me gently, who have mothered me firmly and offered their wisdom, guidance and love. I hold much gratitude for all of them.

Today is a mix of joy and grief. The intensity of love. ❤️

“But what is grief if not love persevering?” – Vision

We are born of love. Love is our Mother – Rumi

Morning Spell

The sky lightens

Inky darkness passes

The sun not yet breaking the horizon

Grey mystic light, hovering

Magic folk still revelling in the dissipating shadows

Dancing in the dew, charting courses by the stars

They call to me

Have faith, you are moving closer to your heart

Your magic has not dimmed, only covered by the din of everyday

Come to dance, in the cool wet grass

Remember who you are

Who you were, before you gave it away

Call the pieces home, take back the self you shared to those who did not see

The weave of spells that you are

A chorus of birds to sing me home

Blessed be the Witches in the magic of the dawn.

Dark Dismantling

We all have something that we are terrified of. Something that we dread, that we push from our minds, that lays in wait in the dark places.

Sometimes it’s rational fears, sometimes it may appear to be irrational. Sometimes it’s a rational fear that has grown so large it can’t be contained to an ‘appropriate’ size.

I know I’m not the only one struggling. It’s getting harder to speak up because it seems there is no space. Everyone has something. We are all so starved to be heard, validated and soothed. Yet it seems there is very few to listen.

But here I sit in the predawn hours wrestling some of my very specific monsters.

Parts of my career are in flux.

The part where I do not work for myself has me shaken and insecure about my abilities due to ‘ratings on a score card’, the cold devalued feeling that my contributions are now subpar. The removal of any feeling of team. No human emotional considerations, conversations or care.

I wrestle with how my body is not able to tolerate the physical exertion of my career ( where I do work for myself in service of others) to the extent I used to be able to work.

I am still capable, but where my comfort number was 6 it’s now 3-4.

Constant pain to varying degrees.

This is coupled with trying to figure out other parts of my life, relationships with others and myself. I am turned inside out. My contents scattered. My identity wrapped in questions. The assurance I used to get from what I thought I knew, what I thought I was…… no longer valid. Detached

Is this the darkest part of the journey? ( at least until death?) and who is going to come out the other side? Who will shine the light during my dark dismantling?

Illuminate

I asked
Show me what to change
Show me what is missing
Show me what remains

I began to dig in the dirt- take the monuments apart
I took a moment to listen to my heart – the whispers buried in the rubble
I appreciated what appeared- if only for a moment.

I sighed
It will take patience
Nothing, for it is within me and in front of me
It may not be where I want it, but trust it will be when I need it most

It’s coming….. pre birthday thoughts

Have you ever been nervous? Not that little bit of jittery catch my breath kind of nervous, but the kind that parallels anxiety so deeply you don’t know if you’re experiencing exhilaration or just an abject ripping apart of your heart and soul.

Every year as my birthday rolls around, this seems to be the overwhelming feeling growing as each year passes.

I try to distract myself with people, places, activities.

But Covid has seen to the fact that I don’t have my distractions, the shut down not only of the world at large, but of peoples minds and hearts because they’re overwhelmed, can at times make it feel like I’m adrift calling out to empty echoes.

I don’t say this for pity, I say this is fact. We are all on survival and I am not special.

Most think that each birthday I have lived should be a victory lap, for the cycles I have tried to break, for making it to an age that I hadn’t really pictured.

I do see each year as a gift, a gift of time with my family, a gift of time to be able to have purpose in the world, to do good things, to help people as best as I can.

But this year, this godforsaken year has been so hard. So many right things to be trying to do, Politic, health and relationship building. Trying to adapt and adjust my own career to what comes next, what I’ll find fulfillment with, where I’ll find my spark.

And today as I sit and look out at the blue sky, and try to fill the landscape of my day with something to make my heart happy, all I can really feel is exhaustion with the underlying electric current of nervousness.

I’m not sure what comes next, I really don’t think anybody is. I just don’t want to lose my drive to get there. Give in to the pain my body feels as I’m trying to coax it to strength and flexibility. Give in to the high anxiety I have been battling. To keep to the positive things I’m trying to do. Who do I want to be, where will I be and who will be with me, this next turn of the wheel? The dogs that are my coffee dates this morning hold no answers.

These are the thoughts I have over coffee before my day begins, I will go to nature, I will touch the ground, I will be thankful for what I have, and remind myself of the joy of curiosity of what’s to come.

Your Prison

It’s ok.

Vulnerability is hard, but I don’t judge you for it.

I don’t judge you for not knowing. For finding it so difficult.

Your tears don’t frighten me.

Your fears don’t frighten me.

I see your overwhelmed humanness

I never had any other expectations- you had already placed so many upon yourself.

I can not fix it for you. But I will be here while you try. A hand to hold, a shoulder to lean, an ear to listen and a heart full of compassion to rest in.

The walls you built to hold you up imprison you with your demons. You have made it hard to reach you, the noise so deafening you can not hear. The frustration of self so loud you think the sound is outside your head and coming from my lips.

If you looked in my eyes, the reflection of you that you would see is one of gentleness, kindness, love

Not the unworthy monster you believe is lurking.

Yet- you think I must lie. How can I see your strength, your beauty, your worth? You demonstrated it over and over to those around, but forgotten to save a bit of light for yourself.

The light you gave me to hold once, when my own battle became so dark I could not see, is a treasure I wish to return to you, to light your way. But you can not see enough to take it.

My heart aches watching you battle. Seeing your wounds erupt from within. I can not love you enough to fill the holes you keep tearing. How can you believe your grace is poison?

How can you believe you are not loved?

I ask the Gods to help you, to hear you, to guide you through. I’ll always be here, when you release yourself from the dark.

Holocaust Remembered but what have we learned?

Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day,

What have we learned from the loss of millions of lives?
People who just wanted to live their every day. Some who may have been destined to do amazing things for the world. Most who just wanted to grow up, grow old, love, learn, enjoy the sun on thier face, a meal with their loved ones, read a book, write a poem, dance.

What have we learned from the loss of millions of lives?
People who were persecuted for their faith, for who they associated with, for who they loved, for their perceived shortcomings.

I ask again, what have we fucking learned?

Here we sit, denying our Indigenous clean water, yet can fund pipelines and war rooms
Here we sit, fighting over who has the right to call this country their home, yet our own fair skinned ancestors crossed the sea from another place, they were not invited nor did they ask
Here we sit, people being murdered because of their skin colour and or orientation, yet we claim to feel oppressed because ( how dare they) we are asked to wear a mask to protect those around us.
Here we sit, oppressed people fighting for education, fighting to have a voice and their stories be told, yet some of us outright deny and dismiss their histories and stories.

I ask again, what have we fucking learned?

WWII Holocaust 6 million mothers, fathers, sons, daughters- wiped out
Countless genocides throughout time in Africa, India, Central Europe
Cultural Genocides in Canada, US, Australia
The list is long and soaked with blood of innocents killed for no reason other than fear of ‘different’

So we give it a day.

What have we learned? What will you do? How can we take history and learn from it.

Blessed Be the souls of those whose lives were taken for no other reason than someone decided they were unworthy.
I will speak up for those voices stolen by greed and ignorance. I will use the lessons here to remember life is sacred, that we are all blood and flesh, that we are all made of the stuff of stars. That we are all one.
❤️

The Faithful Witch, or why I don’t need to ‘find God’

Sitting in the soft glow of the Christmas lights on the Tree and those shining from my Altar. Drinking coffee and contemplating faith.

I document some of my mental and physical health struggles. I have a biting sarcastic sense of humour ( carved well from surviving trauma). I am an empath through and through. I am curious. I am kind. I have a temper. I take things personally that I probably shouldn’t. I believe in helping because it’s the right thing to do. I believe the body is only the house of who we are, I do not believe in judging on gender, race, orientation or colour. I have a strong sense of spirituality and faith. I am Pagan.

Working with chronic illness I encourage my clients to include a faith based practice. I tell them, that these practices and communities are so important to healing. It is another pillar needed for survival. I never tell them what it should look like. I tell them it should be what speaks to them, what elevates them to their higher good, where they find comfort and connection.

Do I think it solves everything? No. Do I believe that alone will heal? No. Do I believe it takes struggle away? No.

Being Pagan, for me, means I am not beholden to one God. I do not bow to my Deity, I do not hand over my ills, nor do I blame or credit them with everything that happens in my life. I believe we are all interconnected. We are the stuff made of stars, we are nature. I believe this interconnection ( magic) binds us to be responsible in our actions and their effects on the world around us. I believe that science and magic work hand in hand. I believe there are things unseen and unknown. I believe my ancestors hold wisdom that can guide me if I listen.

Do I believe this makes me better than you if our Gods do not share the same name? No. I believe all roads eventually lead back to the same and you put the face on it you are most comfortable with.

I do find offence if you’re God demands that you make others conform to your understanding. I am offended if your God leads you to believe you are morally superior because of what you believe. I am offended if your God punishes people for perceived ‘sins’ or character flaws.

I am not offended if you hold me in your prayers, if it is to protect and share love, for that I am deeply moved and honoured.

I am offended if you are praying for my redemption because I’m not like you.

I am offended if you are judging me on my writing, humour or very human flaws and struggles, because you believe these things mean I have yet to find god….. I am offended if your belief makes you think it is ok to tell me that this is what I need.

My faith has so far seen me through some very dark moments. My faith has helped me have compassion and purpose. My faith keeps me curious and in wonder. I have found Myself with in it.

As we move through this season, be joyful, be kind and be open. There are many of us celebrating many things, there are many of us struggling with many things, but I think we can all agree that we should celebrate together, work together and create something better than what we have. Together.

❤️🔮

Inside war

This morning, I allowed my self to feel some of the anger that’s been bubbling. I looked deep into where inside this is sitting. I am so angry and disgusted with myself. As most of you know, simultaneously my knee and my shoulder have been failing me.
Three years ago I was building a strong body, I had found some relative freedom from my mental monsters. Through life circumstances and a couple of freak falls the physical and mental took a few hits.
The pain is constant, and some times workable. But has chipped away at my physicality.
Yesterday walking was nauseatingly painful. This morning, while I was achey I thought it might be workable. So I tried to stretch, a bit of yoga and a few other things to get moving. The knee and shoulder screamed all the while.
I crumpled to child’s pose and wept. I am so angry that I can not do what I could before. I am so frustrated I have all but lost the gains I had worked so hard for. I am so disappointed I gave into some old patterns. I am broken hearted that I feel so little compassion for myself.

I want to keep trying. I have to keep trying. There are a few things that I have kept with. There are a few things that keep me going. I can do my day to day. But these things were not done for self compassion, these were done for functioning, so I can work, so I can do the day to day. But not done of love of self. This makes me saddest of all.

I see this in others, I offer compassion and uncompromising care for them. Trying to let them know/feel that they deserve better. I have gallons of outward empathy. Yet inward is empty.

What is it that makes us feel unworthy? Being unseen for the beautiful creatures we are? Being told we are too much or not enough? Being discounted? Being shunned when we offer love and compassion to others- setting the seeds that even our best is met with disdain so me must be grotesque.

I am allowing the pain in today. In my body, in my heart, I will not dull with medication so I can ignore it. I will accept it as a part of me, for now. I will try ever so hard to find the compassion for myself that it’s ok to feel what I’m feeling. I will accept my disappointment. I will sit with this. I will try to love self despite these perceived failings, I will try to love these broken pieces too.

This world is hard. We all carry so much. Be kind. Be loving. To all. But most of all to SELF.
❤️