Dear Soul on Fire,
I see you.
I noticed the way you radiated heat, today.
Burnt soul, scorched heart.
Your soul is angry and hot, afraid to consider this new life.
You cannot change it. Push on it. Ignore it.
Though you cannot look at me, I know you are hurting.
Your soul is crushed by the newness of your situation.
Despite your best efforts to avoid it, you landed right there.
Deep inside your soul.
Hot.
And angry.
I know that you feel lost.
Alone.
Wondering what the world thinks now.
I know that you didn't want it to be this way.
That you never imagined it could happen to you.
Or your greatest loves.
But here you are.
I see you.
I notice your hesitation to speak freely, for fear of sounding weak.
I know you are exhausted and entangled.
It's not supposed to be this hard.
All.
The.
Time.
But you are not alone.
I see you.
And suffering is part of our shared humanity.
For I am suffering too.
And I, too, am scared to speak.
But even in the silence, I think of you. Pray for you. Hope for you.
I see you.
We cannot change this journey, but know with brave hearts, it can be endured.
We cannot become so self-consumed that we land in the very situation we fought so hard to solve.
We cannot quit.
We cannot stop trying.
The fire within creates conditions for our own greatness.
New life. Soul's growth.
The fire within begs us to rise.
To stand tall, hearts fully engulfed and exposed for all to see.
Our souls were made for this.
We will endure.
Together.
<3
This blog was created in 2011 to capture my very personal journey of leaving full time work to become a work-at-home mother of three beautiful children. Naturally, this space has morphed into a place of personal reflection, celebration and sometimes even sadness. I’ve written about childhood cancer, food allergy and anaphylaxis, grief, marriage, friendship, parenting and everything in between, all with a growing sense of mindfulness and gratitude. Please, grab a cup of tea and stay awhile.
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
Saturday, May 13, 2017
Unpack the bag
I had a really interesting conversation with a friend today.
We were discussing how she and I have both suffered trauma, around fertility and motherhood. We have both endured deep heartache, but for different reasons. Our journeys have taken us along different paths, but we quickly found commonality in the weight of it all.
Trauma
Grief
Loss
Heartache.
They are pretty darn heavy.
Like a tote bag strapped awkwardly over our shoulder.
Hanging there, obvious and heavy.
Awkward.
Uncomfortable.
We both agreed that at one time, that bag of heartache ruled us.
We were defined by it.
Owned by the emotional baggage.
We chose to wear it.
Every.
Single.
Day.
We struggled unsuccessfully to adjust it.
We couldn't manage life with or find the energy to carry around that damn bag all the time.
It was exhausting.
We were owned by our heartache.
Our sorrow ran the day.
The past was in charge of our every moment.
Thankfully, somewhere along the way, we realized the bag had to be put down.
Opened up.
Unpacked.
Put away.
We realized that we couldn't go on forever.
Managing that bag full of hurt.
Pain and grief.
Lost hopes.
Shattered dreams.
THANK GOD we realized it needed to put it down.
Wrapped in courage, we unpacked the bag.
Scary as it was, as hard as it was.
As long as it took.
And in that bag we found memories worthy of shelf space.
Released the heavy feelings out the window.
Found tiny pieces of silver that made us smile.
And we agreed to never wear that bag again.
Because it did not serve us any longer.
We were not defined by that traumatic time.
That loss nor diagnosis.
We realized that living in the past, hurt us in the present.
Unpacking that heavy bag did not lessen the experience or dishonour the life we were grieving, but rather released us from it's weight on our shoulders and heart.
We became free to live again.
Soar again.
Feel lightness again.
We made space.
Took up distance.
-------------------
Most of us endure really difficult experiences.
Incomprehensible pain.
Immeasurable grief.
As much as we want to stop, control or remove it from our lives, it's just not possible.
At some point we have to notice the weight.
Make the conscious decision that it is too heavy.
And breathe in the courage to overcome that which is ruling our life.
So please, only carry your bag for a while.
Don't let your every today be weighted by the past.
Please, get help.
Let others assist as you carry that bag.
Take breaks now and again, and let that heartache sit in idle timeout, beside your feet.
When you are ready, unpack the bag.
Find homes for the memories.
Enjoy life once again, holding those little pieces of silver as a reminder of your strength and love.
xoxo
We were discussing how she and I have both suffered trauma, around fertility and motherhood. We have both endured deep heartache, but for different reasons. Our journeys have taken us along different paths, but we quickly found commonality in the weight of it all.
Trauma
Grief
Loss
Heartache.
They are pretty darn heavy.
Like a tote bag strapped awkwardly over our shoulder.
Hanging there, obvious and heavy.
Awkward.
Uncomfortable.
We both agreed that at one time, that bag of heartache ruled us.
We were defined by it.
Owned by the emotional baggage.
We chose to wear it.
Every.
Single.
Day.
We struggled unsuccessfully to adjust it.
We couldn't manage life with or find the energy to carry around that damn bag all the time.
It was exhausting.
We were owned by our heartache.
Our sorrow ran the day.
The past was in charge of our every moment.
Thankfully, somewhere along the way, we realized the bag had to be put down.
Opened up.
Unpacked.
Put away.
We realized that we couldn't go on forever.
Managing that bag full of hurt.
Pain and grief.
Lost hopes.
Shattered dreams.
THANK GOD we realized it needed to put it down.
Wrapped in courage, we unpacked the bag.
Scary as it was, as hard as it was.
As long as it took.
And in that bag we found memories worthy of shelf space.
Released the heavy feelings out the window.
Found tiny pieces of silver that made us smile.
And we agreed to never wear that bag again.
Because it did not serve us any longer.
We were not defined by that traumatic time.
That loss nor diagnosis.
We realized that living in the past, hurt us in the present.
Unpacking that heavy bag did not lessen the experience or dishonour the life we were grieving, but rather released us from it's weight on our shoulders and heart.
We became free to live again.
Soar again.
Feel lightness again.
We made space.
Took up distance.
-------------------
Most of us endure really difficult experiences.
Incomprehensible pain.
Immeasurable grief.
As much as we want to stop, control or remove it from our lives, it's just not possible.
At some point we have to notice the weight.
Make the conscious decision that it is too heavy.
And breathe in the courage to overcome that which is ruling our life.
So please, only carry your bag for a while.
Don't let your every today be weighted by the past.
Please, get help.
Let others assist as you carry that bag.
Take breaks now and again, and let that heartache sit in idle timeout, beside your feet.
When you are ready, unpack the bag.
Find homes for the memories.
Enjoy life once again, holding those little pieces of silver as a reminder of your strength and love.
xoxo
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Haircuts and healing
Today I crossed something off my bucket list which I never, ever thought would be so personal.
Today I cut my hair off.
Two, 12-inch pony tails.
Two, 9-inch pony tails.
All four ponies will be delivered later this week to Wigs for Kids, an organization that provides free wigs for kiddos with cancer and other life-threatening illnesses.
It was always my intent to grow and donate my hair someday, it was a bucket list 'must do' before I die. When I left my full-time career and 'gave up' highlighting my hair I knew I was one step closer.
Last summer, when Brooklyn decided to donate her hair, I made a promise to grow mine and donate it as soon as I could. Frustrated with the length, but determined, I continued to grow it. After all, a friend battling breast cancer had no hair... why should I complain?
Less than 6-months later, Brooklyn was diagnosed with cancer.
My hair, growing for an unnamed, blank faced child was suddenly replaced with the vivid image of my own daughter.
What if she needed my hair? What if I needed to shave my hair in solidarity with my daughter?
Early in her diagnosis, when doctors believed she required chemotherapy, my hair suddenly became a way to 'help' her in some way. I held on to this perception for many months, even once doctors were firm that she did not require chemo.
I couldn't stand the thought of cutting it off.
I felt like it needed to be on my head.
Waiting for Brooklyn.
Just in case.
Even in July, when we celebrated with our family and friends, I secretly planned a surprise hair donation chop off and couldn't execute.
What if she needed my hair?
It has taken until now, today, to take this next step in my healing process.
On the drive to my girlfriend's salon, I whispered up to heaven, asking for a sign my family angel guides were with me. I was sick to my stomach... that ego voice in my head had been telling me for DAYS that if I cut my hair off, her cancer would return.
Today, in the company of a dear friend, I cried and laughed and cried again.
She took her time, kissed my head and reminded me that it was going to be ok.
Slowly, she cut the ponies, one by one.
I laid them in my lap, crying.
That sign came, as clear as day, as my dear friend worked away on my new cut. Playing in the background of her home salon, these lyrics....
"Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, your word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, it couldn't come at a worse time."
Today I cut my hair off.
Two, 12-inch pony tails.
Two, 9-inch pony tails.
All four ponies will be delivered later this week to Wigs for Kids, an organization that provides free wigs for kiddos with cancer and other life-threatening illnesses.
It was always my intent to grow and donate my hair someday, it was a bucket list 'must do' before I die. When I left my full-time career and 'gave up' highlighting my hair I knew I was one step closer.
Last summer, when Brooklyn decided to donate her hair, I made a promise to grow mine and donate it as soon as I could. Frustrated with the length, but determined, I continued to grow it. After all, a friend battling breast cancer had no hair... why should I complain?
Less than 6-months later, Brooklyn was diagnosed with cancer.
My hair, growing for an unnamed, blank faced child was suddenly replaced with the vivid image of my own daughter.
What if she needed my hair? What if I needed to shave my hair in solidarity with my daughter?
Early in her diagnosis, when doctors believed she required chemotherapy, my hair suddenly became a way to 'help' her in some way. I held on to this perception for many months, even once doctors were firm that she did not require chemo.
I couldn't stand the thought of cutting it off.
I felt like it needed to be on my head.
Waiting for Brooklyn.
Just in case.
Even in July, when we celebrated with our family and friends, I secretly planned a surprise hair donation chop off and couldn't execute.
What if she needed my hair?
It has taken until now, today, to take this next step in my healing process.
On the drive to my girlfriend's salon, I whispered up to heaven, asking for a sign my family angel guides were with me. I was sick to my stomach... that ego voice in my head had been telling me for DAYS that if I cut my hair off, her cancer would return.
Today, in the company of a dear friend, I cried and laughed and cried again.
She took her time, kissed my head and reminded me that it was going to be ok.
Slowly, she cut the ponies, one by one.
I laid them in my lap, crying.
 |
| Crying in the moments following the big cut <3 |
That sign came, as clear as day, as my dear friend worked away on my new cut. Playing in the background of her home salon, these lyrics....
"Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, your word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, it couldn't come at a worse time."
(The Tragically Hip, Courage)
Tonight I will pray over this donation, and ask the Lord to bless this hair with strength and love for the child who will wear it next. I will also pray for her mother, whose heart is broken in a million pieces. I won't ever meet her, but I understand her more than she knows.
#TeamBrookie #WarriorPrincess
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Hummingbird makes three, children that is.
It's been an interesting summer.
Apart from my day-to-day life being home with my kids, I've been formalizing my skills into a little business, something more catchy than "I can help" and something less formal than advertisements and networking events.
It all began one night when I explained to my husband that I wanted (and needed) business cards, but that I didn't want to have my gmail address on them. It seemed borderline cheesy to me. "You need to own a URL in order to have a legitimate email address." Huh. A web site? I wasn't really planning to 'go there' just yet, but as with most things in life, a business card became a slippery slope....
I spent weeks agonizing over a name for my business. Having arbitrarily called it PI Creative Solutions, primarily for the purposes of invoicing, I wasn't particularly keen on continuing with such a, well, boring name. I looked to my friends and family for support, but I knew something was still missing.
In my weeks of brainstorming, I dragged a local graphic design artist through the process with me. Poor girl, I must have driven her crazy with my ad-hoc ideas and thoughts, but as yet I had no brand to guide me. After the first few drafts, I felt the need to ask for a hummingbird graphic. A little lost, that poor hummingbird was, until I realized that what my heart was really saying was already in front of me. I'd name the business after my spirit animal, the little bird with the amazing powers. Thus, Hummingbird Communications was born.
I would be remiss if I didn't mention why the hummingbird is so important in my life. I've always loved those little birds, I grew up hoping to see them fly nearby and wondered how they got so lucky to drink sugary water all day. As an adult, a few years ago, I saw a psychic who spoke about spirit guides, animals who help guide us through our day. She explained that the hummingbird was very much a part of my life and that my own personality was very similar. She told me to remember that just like the hummingbird, I also possessed special skills and abilities that were unique to others around me. That just like the hummingbird, which could fly both forwards and backwards, I too was capable of doing things that others could not, and needed to embrace my skills and believe in myself.
I was told to keep a hummingbird nearby, as it would remind me of my talents and keep me focused. The very next week I was at a local craft show and saw a little stained glass green and pink hummingbird. I promptly purchased the little piece of art and brought it home. She's currently hanging out in my laundry room, one of my 'thinking spots' and likely one of the only places in the house no-one looks for me.
Today I ran into a friend of mine who I met through Leadership Niagara last year. I just knew we were meant to meet, but today she really confirmed that for me. We ran into each other through the St. Catharines Early Years program, which toured the local #6 fire hall this morning. We had no idea the other would be there, but the moment she saw me she said she had something for me. She gave me a little square of text, one she'd been keeping in her purse and recently found. It said:
"Legends say that hummingbirds float free of time, carrying out our hopes for love, joy and celebration. Like a hummingbird, we aspire to hover and savor each moment as it passes, embrace all that life has to offer and to celebrate the joy of everyday. The hummingbird's delicate grace reminds us that life is rich, beauty is everywhere, every personal connection has meaning and that laughter is life's sweetest creation."
Goosebumps yet?
I'm so proud to share my newest, youngest child, with each of you: http://hummingbirdcommunications.ca/
P
PS: Thanks to my incredible husband for believing in my instincts, deciphering html code and most of all for keeping me company late at night when I'm working. Here's hoping my little hummingbird business cards and web site lead to plenty of projects, more late nights and the ability to celebrate every day at home with my kids.
Apart from my day-to-day life being home with my kids, I've been formalizing my skills into a little business, something more catchy than "I can help" and something less formal than advertisements and networking events.
It all began one night when I explained to my husband that I wanted (and needed) business cards, but that I didn't want to have my gmail address on them. It seemed borderline cheesy to me. "You need to own a URL in order to have a legitimate email address." Huh. A web site? I wasn't really planning to 'go there' just yet, but as with most things in life, a business card became a slippery slope....
I spent weeks agonizing over a name for my business. Having arbitrarily called it PI Creative Solutions, primarily for the purposes of invoicing, I wasn't particularly keen on continuing with such a, well, boring name. I looked to my friends and family for support, but I knew something was still missing.
In my weeks of brainstorming, I dragged a local graphic design artist through the process with me. Poor girl, I must have driven her crazy with my ad-hoc ideas and thoughts, but as yet I had no brand to guide me. After the first few drafts, I felt the need to ask for a hummingbird graphic. A little lost, that poor hummingbird was, until I realized that what my heart was really saying was already in front of me. I'd name the business after my spirit animal, the little bird with the amazing powers. Thus, Hummingbird Communications was born.
I would be remiss if I didn't mention why the hummingbird is so important in my life. I've always loved those little birds, I grew up hoping to see them fly nearby and wondered how they got so lucky to drink sugary water all day. As an adult, a few years ago, I saw a psychic who spoke about spirit guides, animals who help guide us through our day. She explained that the hummingbird was very much a part of my life and that my own personality was very similar. She told me to remember that just like the hummingbird, I also possessed special skills and abilities that were unique to others around me. That just like the hummingbird, which could fly both forwards and backwards, I too was capable of doing things that others could not, and needed to embrace my skills and believe in myself.
I was told to keep a hummingbird nearby, as it would remind me of my talents and keep me focused. The very next week I was at a local craft show and saw a little stained glass green and pink hummingbird. I promptly purchased the little piece of art and brought it home. She's currently hanging out in my laundry room, one of my 'thinking spots' and likely one of the only places in the house no-one looks for me.
Today I ran into a friend of mine who I met through Leadership Niagara last year. I just knew we were meant to meet, but today she really confirmed that for me. We ran into each other through the St. Catharines Early Years program, which toured the local #6 fire hall this morning. We had no idea the other would be there, but the moment she saw me she said she had something for me. She gave me a little square of text, one she'd been keeping in her purse and recently found. It said:
 |
| From Jess, the perfect reminder. Thank you. |
"Legends say that hummingbirds float free of time, carrying out our hopes for love, joy and celebration. Like a hummingbird, we aspire to hover and savor each moment as it passes, embrace all that life has to offer and to celebrate the joy of everyday. The hummingbird's delicate grace reminds us that life is rich, beauty is everywhere, every personal connection has meaning and that laughter is life's sweetest creation."
Goosebumps yet?
I'm so proud to share my newest, youngest child, with each of you: http://hummingbirdcommunications.ca/
P
PS: Thanks to my incredible husband for believing in my instincts, deciphering html code and most of all for keeping me company late at night when I'm working. Here's hoping my little hummingbird business cards and web site lead to plenty of projects, more late nights and the ability to celebrate every day at home with my kids.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)