You are alive today

A cold morning walk with 90s tunes blaring in my ears.

An old retriever dog, white face and golden body, walking down a busy street with a giant branch in his mouth.

A postal worker picking up an empty garbage bin rolling around on the street.

Amazing lunch conversation with a dear friend and long-time mentor.

 

What do these all have in common?

 

Well...

 

they brightened my day,

made me smile,

reminded me of all the good around me.

 

They were free,

unplanned,

spontaneously noticed on an average day.

 

The question is, would I have noticed if I wasn't bringing mindful awareness to my day?

Probably not.

 

How much in our day to day life do we miss by thinking so far in advance?

How much passes us by, when we are busy analyzing the past?

 

The past leaves us depressed.

The future gives us anxiety.

Why do we continue to live like this?

 

Eckhart Tolle says, "Realize deeply, that the present moment is all you ever have."

 

Think about that.

Really reflect.

 

Why spend the next day, hour, minute even worrying about something that hasn't happened?

Why lose a week, a month, a lifetime feeling angry or holding a grudge about something which cannot be undone?

 

Our life is not meant to be perfect.

But we can appreciate it regardless.

 

There's no moment but now.

And it's up to us to live it.

Breathe it.

Love it.

 

Find the good, in today. In your now.

Whatever or wherever, it just is.

 

You are alive today.

And that is a gift.

 

xo

 

 

Scanxiety for the child who lives

Once again we find our bags packed and nerves frayed.
Tomorrow is Brookie's next MRI.

All week long we were quietly preparing ourselves.

Saying extra prayers.
Making plans for the boys after school.
Choosing a movie for her to watch.

We talked about Alex, her cancer.
Why she was lucky. Why she wasn't.
She asked for a detailed account of her first and second hospital stays.
A story that never gets old.
Except it does.

I even caught her reading a hospital book to her dolls.

When I woke up this morning, I felt the dread kick in full throttle.
I didn't want to get up.
I felt sick to my stomach.
(I've been in and out of the bathroom all day)

Brookie and I were eating breakfast, when the first wave of tears fell.

She expressed that she didn't want to go, tomorrow.
Didn't like the goggles she will wear while watching her movie.
Feels like the MRI takes too long, and the bed is too hard.
Hates being at the hospital, and driving there.

She cried.
I did, too.

Then I felt guilty, knowing some parents don't have their child alive for this test.
Two years later, and we pray Brooklyn is still cancer-free.
Guilt for the child who lives.

The afternoon moved along, though I felt heavy and sad.
My eyes stung with tears held away from the surface.
My heart pumped with scanxiety.

Cancer still lives in my head.
And the what if's came on strong.

While I was making dinner, Jay and I embraced for a moment.
Both of our hearts hurting in synchronization.
When our eyes met, we shared the same exact fear.

WHAT IF.
What if it actually came back?
What if Alex reappeared?

More tears.

Every single MRI throws us right back to the day we heard those words,
We think your daughter has cancer.

What if this time we weren't so lucky?
What if me telling her after this MRI she has an entire year break is a lie, because there is a mass, a shadow, a lymph node swollen larger than six months ago?

This is scanxiety.
This is survivorship.
This is the reality of cancer.

And yet the guilt, so palpable and thick, reminds me how damn lucky we are to have her in the first place.

Listening for what we really need

I've been thinking a lot about a meme I shared to my Facebook account earlier this week. It's a Brene Brown quote, posted by a blog I really like called Becoming Unbusy.

Shared from @BecomingUnBusy (FB)

Why the heck do we run our butts off, trying to do and make and support everyone and every thing?
Are we really avoiding our true selves?

As my kiddos get older, I am finding it harder and harder to find the intersection of supporting their passions yet still creating enough space for downtime cuddles and lazy puzzle days. It's never been harder.

Sports teams.
Dance lessons.
Birthday parties.
Obligatory family gatherings.
Friends to catch up with.
Board meetings.
Work commitments.
Self care appointments.

When did we decide this was all so normal? To be 'crazy-busy'?
Is it worth it?

This week I attended a funeral for a friend's mom, who passed far too young from the bully that is cancer. As I sat in the church pew listening to my friend and her sister share stories about their mother, I was overwhelmed with reflection.

They spoke about how their mother was always there for them.
By their side.

They spoke of family time and their mom's happy place.
The backyard, a bbq and laughter.

They spoke about their mother's love of sunshine and warm weather.
A simple truth most of us forget  to appreciate in the daily busyness of our lives.

I was truly overwhelmed with emotion, tears streamed down my face, as I realized right there, in that pew, that all my family really needs to focus on right now is creating space.

Not crazy-busy.
Not hours spent driving from event to appointment to commitment.

Just time.
And space.

To breathe.
Laugh.

And listen for what we really need.

The choice written on your heart

There are two kinds of stress in my life.

The kind I can control.
And the kind I cannot.

Two years ago, when Brooklyn was diagnosed with neuroblastoma, I didn't have a hope in hell of controlling a single, solitary moment of doctors saying the words, your daughter has cancer.

I was raw.
My heart crushed.
My soul hanging on by a thread.
I couldn't walk away.
Terrified.
No control.

In those moments, as weak as I was, I found strength deep inside to continue, though admittedly it was hour by hour, moment by moment a great many days.

I made it through.
Slowly the stress lessened.
I moved through the 'new normal' of her survivorship.
Most days I am perfectly able to cope, even through scanxiety and recurrent nightmares.
Even carrying massive survivor guilt, a heavy load I am yet to set down.

More recently, however, I experienced a different kind of stress. It was big and mean and took the form of bullying, a passive aggressive relationship.

It ate at my heart.
Crushed my soul.
Left me feeling one inch tall.
Unable to breathe.

At first, I stood still.
Frozen once again in fear.
Terrified.

But then, I noticed something.
I became aware of the chance to make a choice.

Scary and disheartening and difficult as it was, I actually had some power over what I subjected my heart and soul to, this time around.

I could make a choice.
I did make a choice.
And slowly I am beginning to find my way back.

Once again I reflect.
Massage the wounds.
Look for healing.
Learn.

On this journey called life, we have so many stresses.

Career.
Family.
Friends.
Children.
Finances.
Health.

Some of these are in our control.
Most are not.

But why be stressed out and miserable with anything in our lives, if there is an option to choose?

We must be brave.
Warriors of our heart.
Protectors of our spirit.

The days are long.
But the years are oh so short.

We must stand up and choose.

Love.
Safety.
Peace.
Fairness.
Justice.
Self care.
Integrity.
Joy.

Enough eating around it.

Take a deep breath.
And make the choice written on your heart.
You already know the answer.

Soul on Fire

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

Brooklyn's Wish Trip

It's been a week since we went on Brooklyn's wish trip... a one week all-inclusive vacation to Florida, complete with Disney and Universal passes. I cannot believe how quickly it came, how much fun we had, and that it is already one week in the past.

People keep asking if we had fun, and Brooklyn replies with, IT WAS AWESOME.
I feel like that's an understatement.
The truth is, our vacation was mind-blowing.

You know how you feel as a parent, when Christmas morning rolls around and your kids rush downstairs, screaming and cheering to see what Santa left them? Or how you feel when you hold your newborn child in your arms for the first time? Or how you get choked up when you watch a video about a rescued pup who loves his family so much he won't leave their side?

ALL THE FEELS. As the kids say.

Well this trip was better than all of that.
It was sustained bliss.
Complete and utter joy.

It was heaven on earth.

Our trip to Give Kids the World Village (GKTW) was bigger, sweeter and more impactful than I even imagined was possible for our family.

We laughed all day.
We ate too much (they make the BEST chocolate chip cookies)
We rarely said no. To anything.

I woke up every morning to our three children giggling and laughing together in their shared bedroom. One day Brooklyn even admitted to 'giving Ethan a noogie' in order to wake him up to play.

We had impromptu coffee cart deliveries in our driveway, Dippin Dots and dance parties, Christmas celebrations in October and Brooklyn participated in her first-ever food challenge. The cafeteria happily ensured Ethan's dairy allergy was a non-issue, we rode the carousel after ever meal and we met AMAZING families who courageously shared their stories with us while our kids bonded and played.

BROOKIE AND I ATE ICE CREAM FOR BREAKFAST.
It was the best banana split of my life.

We visited all four Disney parks, and the defining moment came when the kind staff at Epcot SHUT DOWN the Frozen Anna and Elsa character meet and greet so Brooklyn could spent dedicated time with each princess.

It's hard to explain what happened in that 10 minutes, perhap it was much shorter than that but the impact it had will never leave me.

You see, when Brookie was at the hospital recovering, post surgery, she had a wound infection that pushed her discharge date back by more than five days. On one, particularly painful day we received a surprise visitor... a music therapist. Brookie strummed away, singing a line that gives me chills, 'they say have courage, and I'm trying to," you can watch a video snippet if you've not seen it before.

We spent hours, her and I, watching Frozen and singing along over the days and weeks surrounding her diagnosis. It was a safe place for us to get away, and enjoy a sure thing, the only 'for sure' at that moment in time.

Fast forward to our trip, and this photo:

LOOK AT HER FACE!
HER SMILE!

This is the exact moment I started bawling like a crazy cancer mom. The memories of her time at Mac flooded back. The songs, her time with the music therapist and watching the hours tick by.... tick tock tick tock tick tock....

I couldn't breathe, for a minute. I literally felt another layer drop off my shoulders.
A bad memory was replaced by a good one.

This was magic.
Pure magic.
Heaven on earth.

The week went by so quickly. Our family connected on a deeper, more authentic level than ever. I floated in the pool and realized I didn't spend even one day floating in my pool at home, because I was too busy to enjoy it this past summer. I vowed to slow down again.

I realized my children are getting older, but fart jokes really are still funny, especially when Ethan refers to shooting a bomb out in our villa.

I noted the way Brooklyn scrunches her nose when she is laughing like a crazy women in the Ice Cream Palace.

I saw Nolan's self confidence climb through the roof by simply being brave enough to ride a horse at Keaton's Korral.

I watched my husband cry, more than I've ever seen in my life. Tears of joy, gratitude and release. I was so proud and overwhelmed by the way he bared his feelings in front of the kids and I.

(And Jay, my heart was overwhelmed when you pointed out to Nolan that our Prime Minister was crying on TV, following Gord Downie's death. I loved the way you said to him - see buddy, its always ok to cry - if the guy who runs our country does it on TV then its always ok for you to - But, my dearest husband, you already showed him this while on our trip... and for that I am forever grateful)

Disney is magic.
But Give Kids the World Village is so much more than that.

We will never, ever forget our time there.
And we cannot wait to visit as an alumni family in the future <3

To all of you - donors, volunteers, board members - associated with Help a Child Smile....
Thank you. You're generous hearts have impacted us beyond words and measure.

To the over 1700 volunteers and staff a week who make Give Kids the World Village a place of sustained bliss... Thank you. Your energy and love was felt every, single day.


xoxo

The teachings of my soul

Last week I got lost in the busyness of life.

(If I'm being honest, I've been lost most of the summer)

Many of my worst habits... to do lists, late night notes to myself, an overly full calendar.... have come back in full force as I attempt to control my world.

But back to last week.

Last week was a particularly crazy week, one where I literally spent hours preparing for a weekend event that I look forward to every year. I was making phone calls and sending texts, I was confirming rules and considering all angles to ensure the best possible chance for success. 

Hours.

I'm not even kidding.

Then, the weekend arrives. I was overpacked, my brain was still swimming with all the busy of the week but my heart was happy as I was about to spend my weekend with some of my favourite people.

Then, get this.

Despite my organization, time spent and energy expelled all week, it blew up in my face.

Literally, another human being blew up in my face.

Crap.

Really?

If you know me personally, you know how much I hate conflict.

It makes my skin crawl. 

Call me an idealist, but I like to think that words are powerful enough to deflate most conflicts, and that if we take time to check our perspectives we can almost always see another side of the story.

But this weekend, despite my very best efforts to promote smooth sailing, I hit a massive wave.

I can't even tell you how much it hurt my heart. 

Hurt.

My.

Heart.

But it happened, and I left feeling unheard, disrespected and totally overwhelmed.

In fact I spent most of my day feeling sick to my stomach.

And it didn't matter how much I prepared, because it didn't help me.

Huh.

Sometimes life just throws us a curveball. 

Acts in a way which is contrary to every plan, scenario and best practice.

Sometimes we just aren't prepared.

Sometimes no one listens.

Sometimes no one wants to listen.

Sometimes we just can't win.

Sometimes words aren't enough.

And so despite living with an awareness of self, despite my every effort to be kind, speak calmly under distress and build mutual respect, sometimes life just doesn't work that way.

All I can do now, is listen to the teachings of my soul.

It continues to say, love, even when others don't love you.

Breathe deeply and speak calmly when you want to explode.

Love friends like family, because they really are the family you choose.

Fail and keep failing, but never ever stop living with optimism.

Thank those who support you, but appreciate those who do not, for they help you grow.

Remember that faith can heal a hurting heart.

And hugs really do make a tough day better.

And finally, never, ever let another person's opinion of you, become you. 

I am not what you think.

I am what I know, deep inside.

Chin up, heart open and soul bared.

Always.

Courtesy Buddha Doodles