Filled Void

The greatest art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain. – Lord Byron

The heart, soul and brain all work differently. 
The brain makes a decision
The heart may fight it/ jump on board
The soul may cry/ sing

To make the decision to try to truly be present in ones life is hard. Not jumping to the future, not visiting with ghosts of the past. The here, now.

Can be lonely, with out others to be here, now- as they all seem to be other places. But do we base our existence off the recognition of others? Why? ( is it just me? It is, says the monster of invisibility)

It’s hard to sustain ( but what will happen if we don’t over think the what if’s, cries the monsters of uncertainties)

It’s a strange freedom to try for ( but you do not deserve that freedom, it is for others more worthy, cry the monsters of the past as they try to chain you down)

What is the present sensation? Calm? Connected? Cold? Pain? Love? Distrust? Amazement? Distain? Joy?
Why is this sensation present? Feel it…. let it move through…. learn what you can…… let go.
So easy to say. So hard to do.

Between two worlds life hovers, like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizons verge. – Byron

On With It

Dry your tears 

There’s no time for this

If no one looks too close 

If no one listens too close 

Find the steel in your spine

Find the steel in your smile 

You lead 

You’re empty 

If no one looks too close 

If no one listens to close 

The cracks won’t show too bad 

The cracks will hold another day 

You animate the body

You mourn your soul 

If no one looks too close 

If no one listens too close

Dry your tears 

There’s no time for this 

But I am not ready

Today on my mind is pain. 

All those who really know me, know that my accidental choice of a career, Massage Therapist, beautifully turned into a life passion. I have been gifted to be with clients in birth, death and all states in between. 

The honours I have been trusted with:  life stories, vulnerability, knowledge- sacred and silly, wisdom, hurt, healing, fear, and joy. It has been such a cool, hard, interesting path. I have seen people and their perceived weakest (but the strength it took to get through it was amazing), their strongest, in pain, in triumph. 

 Once I realized that this is where I am at my best service, where I can do so much good, I realized this is also one of the most satisfying things I am capable of.

It has brought me to a place where I am entrusted with teaching the next generation of Massage Therapists. I have met some exceptional talents and hearts entering this field. I try to translate the wisdom I have gained over the years to them. To be humbled by what you are witnessing, whether it is an elite athlete getting back to sport, a mom reducing her pain to be able to play with her toddler, someone on their 4th battle with cancer, a Fibromyalgia patient being able to have a pain free day, or an over worked dad actively practicing self care to reduce the stress on his body and mind, or someone losing the ability to follow their passion and reimagining and finding the courage to change the life plan. There is a raw honesty we get to observe. We do our best to help the body get as well as it can. It is amazing.

The people I have touched, the marks they have left on me. I have whole families that I have been blessed to watch for the better part of two decades. I have celebrated and grieved in equal measure. Never once considering my own time may be finite.

Pain. 

The therapist has become the patient. 

It’s funny, I have had mental illness for most of my life that I have been dealing with, I am open and honest with all those in my life about those battles, but the other battle I have been waging for just over two years now, I have not been completely open with how I am dealing with it. 

I am 46, the last 4 years are the healthiest I have ever been. I weigh 200+ pounds less than I did twenty years ago. I exercise quite regularly, I eat so much better than I did a decade ago, I actively work at my mental health. Two years ago my body told me that I was defiantly not young anymore. I have aches and pains, some related to the everyday, some to my anxiety disorder, but hey, I have access to some of the best massage, acupuncture and chiropractic out there, so healing and management are easy peasy.

I started to show signs in my right shoulder of tendonitis. Not surprising statistically, given my age, gender and career choice. I am so very lucky to have a very insightful Massage Therapist of my own. As I began to get my own regular therapy for it we realized as we ‘dug’ deeper into the tissue it was so much more. There had been long buried childhood trauma there. It would take work but I was hopeful to be fully back to myself in time. It is a blessing when a therapist can calmly walk this journey with you. To observe, compassionately adjust and continue momentum.  I was making great headway, modifying certain things like exercise, but healing was happening and it was not really interfering with my job. Eight months ago I fell, redamaged the shoulder, increasing the injury and setting the recovery time back. 

There was a little twitch in the back of my head that I needed to get a closer look at what was happening in the shoulder. I discovered there is damage that is permanent. So much that can be progressive in it’s destruction. At some point I will be faced with the very real possibility of surgery. But it will never be the same. There is now always some awareness of pain, sometimes it is background noise, sometimes it is so much at the forefront I can’t think. It is weak in certain ways, it makes sounds, it gets hot, it gets stuck. It now has begun to interfere with my job.

I am so lucky that I have more skills to explore and I don’t think (hope) I will have to fully stop being a massage therapist. But I am facing change. I was hopeful for a long time that with a few minor adjustments and strengthening I could be mostly back to myself. Over the last couple of months, the schedule I have been trying to keep and the daily demands I need to fulfil have shown me that I need to be realistic about what I need to/ can do.

Self care has been only consistent in the actual getting of massage, which keeps me working, and I have come to discover after missing the odd regular one that it has an incredible impact on my mental health. It is amazing to me to have had the academic/clinical impression for years of what massage is capable of but until it is experienced out of need I never really understood what a life line ie can be. I am trying to get back to how diligent I was before this happened, but I know it is hard to step out of the defeatist mind. It hurts so I can’t, well if I can’t exercise I will eat the sweet junk food that brings short term comfort, I will be angry and I will begin the cycle again.

 I try to exercise but am frustrated that I can not do what I could two years ago, that it fatigues faster and can not lift what it could. Where I could see six or seven clients in a day comfortably, I find now a max of four unless I am willing to compromise the quality of what I do and create a discomfort that gives me a hard time sleeping. Add that into some of my teaching responsibilities and that number I am able to do decreases.

Everyone around me is trying to be so encouraging. “You have other things you can do.” “It’s not like you have to quit all together.” I know this is meant to make me feel better but it doesn’t. 

I have worked very hard to build what I have, the relationships I have, the business I have. I know that cutting it back is not the end, but it means I am not going to be the therapist I was, the one that these people have all come to rely on. I thought it would also make me feel better if I built in some referrals that could fill in for me if my hours are too restrictive, I believe I have made great recommendations, but can’t help feeling like I have failed these people somehow. And what if I am wrong, and it proves that I actually can no longer massage at all? what about then?

It will also take time for the new skills to generate any income. So what am I supposed to do there? Bills, mortgage, school fees and life doesn’t  wait. 

I know people are meant to be kind, encouraging and supportive, but when I try to express genuine fear, disappointment and grief over this forced change I am given the ‘there, there’ treatment. It is well meaning I know. But damn it! This fucking sucks.

I hurt, my hands get stiff, my shoulder burns and aches so much. I’ve been so proud of what I have accomplished in this realm and do not feel like I am done yet. There are times, as I try to envision and get excited about what comes next that I feel the hot tears well up, the deep sadness in my heart that takes over everything. Add to that the frustration of the chronic pain. It can drive you mad. I cry. By myself, but the tears spill fast. What I need is for this to be seen, not with a bright side at this moment, but allow me to grieve, to be angry, recognize this fucking blows! Let me be disappointed, hug me, be empathetic, be disappointed with me- I will feel better when I have made peace, but I am not there.

I love my career, I love what I have built. I am fighting as hard as I can to maintain my place here, to take care of those that have honoured me with their trust. I know in my heart they all care for me as well. Today the pain has defeated me, made me tired, made me unsure. Tomorrow I will get up and try again, keep trying for as long as I have it in me. It is a big part of who I am. 

My Daughter

So bittersweet, the moment was.
You called for me.
That sweet face, my little baby girl peering out at me with glistening eyes. Mama, I need you.

Earlier, your eyes glinted with exasperation when I offered to help you with your hair. You’re old enough, you don’t need me. You can do it all yourself.

A while later, you caught my eye, I saw your face. You mouthed the words, to come with you. So vulnerable you looked.
I hold your cherished face in my hands. Wiped your shocked and surprised tears. Reassuring tones from my heart to yours. Yes, my sweet, a little piece of childhood is done, but it will be ok.

I feel the little piece of ice pierce my heart.
My baby, my baby. My heart.
Now before me, no longer the child playing with dolls.
But the beginnings of a young lady. We can not go back from here.

You still reach for me. My baby. You are crossing a threshold, we acknowledge together. You squeeze my hand. And thank me, for helping you feel safe, loved and supported. I am grateful that this is how you feel entering this transitional moment. That this is the space we have created together.
I wanted to cry, to lament, please bring back my baby, what if there were things I did not teach, what if I missed important things. How is it over so quick?! How can I guide her when I’m not ready?!

Yet….. My heart swells with pride, this sweet, funny, talented, kind, young lady was growing into her promise as a human. Gracefully, inquisitively, loved.

But my babe you will always be, in the eyes of the woman you will become.

Friends, Choices, Monsters

Sometimes I admire people who appear to have a lack of empathy, a lack of concern for others.
There are times I wish I could not feel, worry, care or hurt. Times I wish I could scream fuck this and fuck you and not care where the chips land.
But I’m not. I crave understanding ( and to be understood). The why, the how, the scope of experience that created the situation. Motivation for causing pain. Motivation for dropping seeds of deliberate discord in situations.
I try so hard to understand why I spend time on these considerations, when it seems very few around me do, other than wanting to use my anxiety disorder as an excuse for how they treat me. But rarely as a reference for understanding and empathy.

This often plays into my anxieties when I can’t get answers, my monsters will twist and pick apart a situation, creating a space for me to want to make it better at huge cost, and/or creating such paranoia that the train derails into not trusting anyone’s motivation in my life.

There is plenty of ideas out there that it can be a conscious decision. Hanging on or letting go is something to be decided- you are only stuck if you believe you are. Let go of attachment. Let go of resentment. Let go of hurt. Sounds easy. But it’s far from that.

Friends: reason season lifetime

My life in the last few years had been a whirlwind of self discovery, change, growth, dismantling and creation.
Hitting middle age and deciding to break out of toxic patterns and explore myself and the world around me has been fraught with more pain ( and beauty) than I thought.

I’ve always adored that I had a close knit crew around me. We would get together often, laughs, drinks, interesting conversation, shared life events. I believed these people would all do their best to support me as I believed I did for them.

The flux was hard, but I relied on my sisterhood to keep me standing. The long-standing friendships, the new ones being built.
We are a few years past the marked start of my passing into what I feel is my rightful version of Womanhood. So much unforeseen. While I relied on my ‘sisters’ to be my sounding boards, I believed they also understood the scope from where I was speaking. That if they believed I was far misguided in my journey they would nudge me in the right direction, not insinuate themselves into it covertly and create far more destructive vibrations.

In amidst much stuff going on, I was made aware of some things that had been put into play. These well placed and seemingly ‘concerned’ statements as well as bolder actions created a much more uncomfortable situation that did not need to exist. That, in hind sight, I should have dealt with far less humorously than I did.
I had to first deal with a fall out that came with the immediate situations. I pushed passed the hurt I felt at the time to find my footing.
But I soon realized that what had happened made me question many things. Question myself and how I am perceived. I found myself having to explain who/why I am in ways I never thought I would. I took for granted, that as people got to know me, it would be identified that my life had shaped me into a deeply feeling, dramatic, sometimes intense human. Never setting out to harm, confuse or bring ill-intent, just working at connections, depth and discovering parts about myself that I thought were pretty interesting. But all of this was framed poorly and misrepresented. When the far reaching scope came into focus I was embarrassed, humiliated and beyond hurt.

I initially tried to apply understanding and compassion- what was going on in this person’s life that warranted this interference? Was it all a misunderstanding? Considering they had mostly withdrawn from me long before this all took place, I could not fathom why they spoke from an unknowing place.

I tried asking, this being very hard for me, given my anxiety issues, but I tried. This was met with a nothing, no defence, no denial, no explanations, no outright admission, no compassion for the position I was in, or the amount of trouble this caused in my life.

So, I made a conscious decision of letting it go, there would be no answer, no resolution. Separate as best I could. Trust the healing with those that desired it.
I have to grieve the friendship that meant so much to me.

Yet it’s hard, because the spiderweb connections that bind us are still very present. I tried to do the adult thing and not ask for sides to be taken. But I think in the process I have underplayed how much this has shaken and wounded me. I was (this is a piece of my anxiety) hopeful that others that are around me would rally, be protective and let it be known it was not acceptable. I was (am) not looking for any grand gesture, any big confrontation on my behalf, but I never asked, it never happened.

The hurt surfaces every so often. I try to not get into the victim mentality. Sometimes the lines of the web seem purposely tweaked, so I’m made aware of the ties that still bind, I can’t help but feel that this is a personal poke. It awakens the hurt, anger and humiliation.
I can see where it has shaken my trust and perception of myself, others. My circle, my clan I adore, feels wobbly.
In light of this and a few other issues, my once open door, full table and social house has closed down to almost nothing.

I miss it, them, the beauty of my whole village coming together, the sense of belonging. I second guess motivation, perception and intent. I panic if I think mine has been misperceived.
There are still many in my circle I love, and would ferociously defend, and hope that they feel the same.
Even though I have made the decision to no longer fucking care ( as I screamed at the ether)- putting into practice is much harder than I realize. It is continual reminders, self talk and forgiveness. To be ok with still feeling hurt, angry, and grieve. To work at no expectation that anyone else will care that this is how I periodically feel. Someday I hope to be done with it. Someday I hope I heal from the wound. I hope that the shakiness I feel will subside and my confidence will return to what it should be. I hope to take my power back.

I believe in sisterhood
I believe in kindness
I believe in love
I believe to not compete but to uplift
I believe to build up not tear down
I have to believe

Tower

Breathless I wait…… the vibrations of change are beginning. I can feel them. This is needed. The Tower, yet again begins to roil.
For the last while I have been required to be present, clear, steady, a safe harbour. A shelter ( oh I do this so well)
I feel deeply
My loyalty steadfast
Can I see the end of the nightmare that is not mine?
Rally love, you have it in you. Rally love, this is your place. Rally love, we’ve walked this way before.
The Tower pitches and cracks. Can I hold the steadfast harbour for you with one hand and ride out the inner rollercoaster, holding on to myself with the other?
I can. I will. I’ve got it in me. This is my place. I’ve walked this way before. But this time a new path will now be made. We shall not come to pass this way again

A Good Day Song

Why are we so afraid to be who we are?

It’s hard work to let the beat of your heart lead you. Easy and safer to blend in? Is it?

I don’t know?
It seems the older I get, the more me I’m becoming me.
Bold, open, red haired, red lipped, opinionated, loving, thirsty for knowledge, bubbling with creativity, sci-fi fantasy horror loving, music and dance adoring, striving for connections, impatient, giving, foul mouthed, no shit taking, I will beat back my monsters, warrior, wanting to lead my Village, loyal, celebrate those around me, tender, selfish, sensitive, sensual, silly, proud Witch.

However, sometimes some on the outside ( and some of the monsters on the inside) sing in a chorus:

Don’t come across too smart, then you are a snob.
Don’t be too kind, then you are a doormat.
Don’t dress to bright or noticeable, you are only doing it for the attention
Don’t vocalize your opinion, you’re just being annoying.
Don’t choose something just for you, you’re being selfish
Don’t admit where and why you see what you do, you’re just being too weird

Damnit!!
Use big words, educate yourself, know most knowledge does not come from books but from having the chutzpah to ask questions and being open.

Be kind, lend a hand, a heart, hold back judgment, risk the odd hurt, so you can experience connection.

Wear black, wear gold, red hair, grey hair, long, short, shaved, wear hot pink, short skirts, long pants, heels, flip flops, push up bra, bra less, red lips, clean face…. who cares as long as you are doing it for you and you feel damn good in it.

Have an opinion, vocalize, but back it up smartly, allow others theirs and know when to STF up.

If filling your cup means you are better able to serve those around you, then fill your cup. You are the only person that you have to wake up with everyday, it is not selfish to take care of your body, mind and soul.

Be weird, everybody has a glitch or two. Try to work on the negative ones, but celebrate the ones that make you, you. Celebrate the ones that make your tribe, your tribe.
Love more
Judge less
Be kind to self, they way you are kind to others.