Love

Love is not fragile

It has a strength that transcends time and distance

Love is not meek

It is ferocious

Love is not reserved for romance

It is Self, Family, Friends and Earth

Love is powerful

It can change the course of history

Love is not biased

It can see the true soul, regardless of colour, sex religion and economic standing

Love is not meant to be hidden

It is meant to be shared, cultivated and grown

Love is all there is 

Tales From the Front Line War Cry

I have been committed to working on myself in one form or another for some time now. However there was a series of events ( some unfortunate….. oh Lemony Snicket, insert eye roll here), slowly happening over the last couple of years, culminating in a few things last fall that showed me there are things in my life that are not working for me.

Coping mechanisms I use, that no longer help as well as they once did. Things I believed I created, that would protect and support me, now proving to be much in the way of smoke and mirrors. Loop around patterns that get me no where. There are beautiful moments of grace as well, but all have obvious signs that I need to be doing something’s differently. By the Goddess’ grace I am only half way through my journey on this plane. I know I have work to do, and I need to do it with out always having a battle going on in the background. I deserve better. 

When you decide to make changes, level up, go to battle purposefully with the monsters in your head, there is not a single battle front. The offence/defence must be mounted on multiple fronts. I had to look at the health of many things in my life, my physical health, mental health, the health of my relationships, the health of my relationship to my self. I have to be willing to be honest, to own what I can. To find acceptance of self, light and dark. To see the beauty and power in all of the pieces of me. To change what I can. So I had to start somewhere.

Physical help: For me, conventional anxiety/depression medications have not proven helpful. I am grateful they exist and so many are helped. But for me the negative side effects far outweigh any positives. In my profession I am a vocal supporter of patient knowledge and advocacy for diagnosis and medication. If a client tells me something does not seem right I encourage them to keep on their doctors, research and ask questions until they get answers. I did not do this well enough for myself in the last few years. I have been on a drug for the last four years, ( it’s very common) that I take as prescribed for a genetic condition. The whole time I have been taking it, my doctor has been upping the dose, to get me to the documented acceptable level. The current dose I am on was prescribed 2.5 years ago. Too high of a dose of this medication can have similar symptoms to my GAD. I had noticed that I was beginning to get hot flashes, my anxiety levels were climbing and my ‘control’ tools were not as effective. Then I asked my doctor if the meds were perhaps the culprit, I was met with, ” we have the textbook level we need in your blood, you are heading into your mid 40s and probably menopause and you have existing mental health issues.” I was inclined to agree with him. But no less concerned at the blazé way my concerns were met with. Even if this was a result of the inevitable menopause, this does not sound like a fun way to live, so perhaps some suggestions?!

I did a little more research into this medication on my own and found that a too high dose can result in muscle pain, anxiety, short temper, skin issues, changes in menstruation and ‘foggy’ brain. Now to be fair my diagnosed GAD does present with many of these issues as well. I have over the years employed coping mechanisms that would help me manage or mask in a situation. Those coping strategies seemed to no longer work as effectively as they had. I felt twitchy most of the time. I am now working with a new doctor who is willing to explore the idea of adjusting the dosage to see if it will lessen the GAD symptoms that seem to be heightened.

There were healthy habits that I let go by the wayside. Three years ago, I was doing some kick ass exercise, I had never in my life looked so physically good. The shear physical challenge of it was also helping to keep my twitchiness at bay. It worked well for a time. I was strong, I was confident. But slowly the monsters in my head starting getting fed. I have a super power of being able to overthink a conversation and distill all the meaning out of it. I will analyze, and at times laser focus on a statement, a nuance, and it will burn into my memory. Well, these beasts fed off of comments said in frustration and perceived slights. These things really weren’t rooted on my physical changes, but from other life issues, but man oh man can those monsters twist and hyper focus like pros. These barbs took root and poison bled from them. Vocally however, I mostly used my shoulder injury as the main reason I stopped exercising.

It was so very wrong of me to give up. To fall into the entrenched pattern of ‘fixing’ things by being destructive to myself. Of course this created another chorus of monsters reminding me I am not worthy to be noticed. I am not worthy to be confident in who I really am. I am only valued when I am who others want/need me to be. This struggle has lamely toggled back and forth for the last year and a half. A couple of weeks ago I recommitted to building my physical strength again, for myself, monsters be damned. But this act did open the gates of hell in my head. I am still trying to nail that shut. I am fearful for phantom reasons, and I can recognize that. But I have begun.

I really had to look at my mental health. I am very aware of my defined diagnosis, GAD and a few assorted add ons. But what I was really wanting to look at was my life and my mental health, I mean ‘How the fuck did I get here? How and why were these monsters created? What am I responsible for? Can I really change anything after all this time? Or will this be the same ‘wait it out’ battle for the rest of my life? I have known for sometime in my heart that things could/should be different. With help, I have been working with a program for the last month, it falls in line with behaviour modification and retraining the brain to respond differently, mindfully. It is hard, it is scary. I am honouring myself by taking it slowly. I have also incorporated more spiritual work in my life as well. Both the spiritual practice and the cognitive mental health practices I am working on have lead me to the same path. It is suggested in both places to be very specific about what I want to work on. Not to take on everything at once. To have patience and to trust. To ask for help when I need it, to be honest on my path and to help others where I can. To do my best to practice non judgment on myself. To accept the darker parts of who I am.

I decided to look at something that does not make me feel very good, it is hard on relationships and it is all around exhausting. I want to understand my need to be acknowledged, adored, needed and valued. It is a constant. It is vacuous, never ending yaw. It skews things for me. I am never satisfied, I am never calmed or reassured enough. Why do I fear being invisible, abandoned? The continuous need to be reassured that I am valid, seen. How was this behaviour created? Where do we begin?

Study your trauma (get help here if you need it), study your response, see how that pattern either serves or not now. In the spiritual world, you are doing shadow work. Have help, have guidance, have support. It may feel like a very lonely trip at times, being that far inward, but you will want to have back up. Some of the monsters you may encounter along the way were formed in traumas that for the moment may still have the ability to pull you apart. Have people you can trust, who will not judge, have professionals near too, just in case. Have your spiritual help, the Gods and Goddess’ that you can call upon, who will anchor you, connect with you, so you will know you are not alone.

Be prepared that some of what you may face may not be from this current existence. Generational trauma that can be passed in the DNA. Trauma experienced by the Mother while pregnant. Past life traumas, energetic bindings that may need to be explored, healed, repaired or cut. It is complex.

As you travel the road to your inner core self, keep in mind you will not like parts of who you are. You may also fall deeply in love with other unknown pieces of yourself too. You will not be able to change all of it to love and light, you should not want to. There is much to love and value in our shadow sides. Do your best with the wounds that fester and weep. Gently clean the scar tissue of other wounds and admire how all of this has brought you forward.

Strength, Determination. Love. Acceptance.

Draw your mirror, your sword, your heart and your breath. The Shadow work has begun.

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.

Fae For Show

There was a dark Fae named Aubergine. She had healing magic, the ability to spin a tale or two. Her heart was kind, her soul gentle. The spirits of the Wood could whisper in her ear. She could call the dark or light, depending where balance was needed. Content she was, to be in the trees. To read the stars, to listen to the symphony that the Mother has made. 

She had her admirers, she had her users too. 

He would come, lay his heart at her feet. Shy offerings of love to win her favour. She alighted to him. The house became a home. 

The walls grew thick, the air dry. Her sparkle grew dim, the magic muted. Resigned to grey. But the spark never died.

Air began to blow on the spark. Cradle it she did. The glow became too much to hide. Her wings began to expand.

He looked high and low to find what now must lie at her feet. For he remember then Aubergine, as she glowed, not the grey. What he found at her feet was a reflection. Greys streaked with chains of red. He remembered what he believed was his.

Gilded bars of protection, erected in pride. For all to bare witness. Behold, the wild she. She is mine, no better will it ever be, no love to ever match. 

Behold the wild Fae, how much she is mine. How lucky I am. 

Now at her feet lie the bloody offerings of proof that he, and he alone be the air, water, fire and earth she need. That spirit will be shared. The tales be spun when it is deemed convenient. But if the Wood, and Stars wanted to speak. If the Mother sent messages to build the light. Explained it had to be. Justified. 

Quiet she sits in the castle build for her. Everything she is told she needs. With loving pride, what a good man am I?

She knows, Love is the motivation. Fear is the cause. Her voice lost to the Ether. Airless perfection until it isn’t. What shall happen to the blessed Fae?

why is expression so hard

I have always felt things intensely.
Joy, sorrow, love, pain, even the most mundane of emotions like boredom have a technicolor hue.
I know many people out there, us Empaths/Artists if you will, feel life as intensely as I do.
The gift/curse I have along with that is a love and decent talent for words.

Gift? Because it helps to get the intense feelings out of my head when I can explain them. Even the real good emotions, if not allowed to be expressed fill me up to the point of popping.
Gift? Because I know I have been able to entertain some as well. Sometimes even been blessed with being able to help others find their expression through my own.

Curse?
So easily I am misunderstood. Big, deep intense words get thrown around. Is she crazy? Depressed? She needs help if things are that dark, deep or off the rails. She should not express her feelings of admiration, love or connection so deeply to so many, there must be inappropriate things going on. She’s so angry. She’s too happy. She feels too much for too many.

I struggle. Between being the natural me that can express the orgasmic moment of eating a fresh cherry, how my heart fills at conversation, how kindness can touch my soul, cruelty rips at me.
And the me that feels the need to shrink, loose color so as to not make others uncomfortable, misunderstand or be able to make imaginary things out of what I say or write.

I have been shown both of these things. I have been told my expression as admirable, welcome, anticipated, appreciated.
I have had to face that these same words can be twisted, weaponized, used against me and others. Used to question intent because I express in big, deep colourful and powerful language.

I am me. I mean no harm. I find love and life to have many shades, I will not apologize for that.
I should not have to apologize for what’s in my head, for what I want/need to share. Yet today…….

Today I question. I question how and to whom I share. I question what is heard and interpreted. I feel myself watering down my expression of love for my Village, even though those feelings stay bold. Diluting the descriptions of my experience, I feel like I’m receding,
even though the quote that speaks to me is
‘I must write to empty my head or I shall surely go mad’ – Byron

Why?

Today my thoughts are tossing around various comments and questions I have been asked about what and why I do what I do for others.

Why are you determined to see the best in people? Because I want people to see the best in me.

Why do you try to understand the ‘why’ behind people’s actions? Because I believe seldom are people cruel and mean for no reason. An animal in pain will react in kind. And I think understanding and compassion are a start to healing.

Why do you forgive? Because there have been times in my life that being forgiven for mistakes has made a difference for me. Forgiving lightens my load.
It does not mean forgetting, but if someone truly made a mistake and is trying to move on to something better, forgiveness can be a beautiful starting gift.

Aren’t you worried you get used? Sometimes, I am a fallible human after all. But truthfully for those that take until it seems I have nothing or those that feel entitled with no return, well it’s sad for them. My life is rich in those who love and appreciate me, and over the years it has been proven time and again.

Why do you encourage and support those that you do? I am genuinely inspired by the people I support and encourage. Every single one of them is overcoming their own challenges, bettering, deepening their knowledge of themselves and the world around them. I see into people sometimes, and the potential they have. I just want to see them get there

Am I perfect at this? No

Do I have an agenda? Yes, to learn, about me and how I relate to all of the world around me. How and where I fit and what I can do while I’m here. Helping others on their path also teaches me how to deal with my own monsters, wants and needs.

Do I help everyone? No. I’m more selective than I used to be. One of my lessons. I also try to not force it. And sometimes when I realize someone really does not want, appreciate or need it, I move on. No malice, usually, just a peaceful release.

My Dear Village- I truly appreciate you all, and I hope you appreciate each other. At the end love of self and love of each other is all we have.

Sonorant Thief

Thief!! Thief!! Give it back!!
Give back the peace 
Give back the clarity 
Give back the quiet 

No one invited you here
Your shrill drone, never ending 
Nothing important to say
Digging in, drowning out the rest

Thief!!! Thief!!! Give him back!!
Give back the humour
Give back the patience 
Give back the light

The gifts you’ve brought no one wants 
The rigid pain, lack of sleep 
No focus, giving room for past ghosts 
To wake, recall, aid in your merry terror

Thief!!! Thief!!! Give him back!!!
Leave him be
Leave us alone
No one wants your destruction here.


Finding Forward

Love each other, be kind, be open,
forgive the monsters you can,
battle those you can’t.
Support each other in love
See truth in another’s eyes
Be willing to let go the phantom chains
Step forward, for you- not me, not them,
what anyone else believes or thinks matters not. If you know your self, your heart and your truth- trust, trust someday it will be seen, loved and accepted. Trust that you are, will be and always have been enough

Motivate me please

This morning, while I drink my coffee I am trying to understand motivation. What motivates people to do what they do. Not the lifestyle stuff, eating well, exercise etc, but the motivation to be kind, mindful, or cruel, deceitful, helpful, or harmful.
Is there pleasure derived from being mean? causing harm? creating oppression? disconnection?

I know in nature animals will lash out when they feel threatened or are in pain. Aside from humans (and the occasional cat), very few species cruelly toy with each other for sport.

I think back over my life and all the experiences I have had. For better or worse, it seems to keep me more determined to be kind, thoughtful, engaged to truly see someone, to lend a hand, keep my heart open and to trust. I look at what I can be met with here, often it is joy, connection, creativity, challenge, growth, support. (my village❤️❤️)
But lately, my mission if you will, has lead me to the hard truths that my open heart, excitement, passion for connection, kindness, compassion will be misread, twisted, ignored, or turned back upon me to wound. This creates feelings of stupidity, sadness, and the wounded feel of trust being destroyed. It is here I get the urge, the urge to ‘be like everyone else’……

So what motivates me? To be seen. Not in a glorious, celebrity way, exalted, and worshipped. But to be seen for my heart, the love I offer to all, to be understood, my wounds, scars, how that has shaped me, recognized that I am far from perfect, but that I, like I believe most, just want to connect.

I am motivated by seeing the smile on someones face when they achieve something big for themselves.

I am motivated by seeing hope light someones eyes, where it was dim before.

I am motivated by the direct connection of a hug or holding someones hand, feeling the energy move between us. That direct link.

I am motivated by the relief on someone’s face when they realize that they are seen, accepted.

I am motivated to see the way I want to be seen, as a whole, flawed, worthy of compassion, love and understanding, creative being, waiting to connect.

I am motivated by love.