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Showing posts from November, 2013

Bliss Be My Guide

In 1999 I was teaching grade 8-10 in British Columbia.  I had taught for 8 years and was confident in my role, flexible in my planning and able to integrate new themes or material, growing and adapting the curriculum to the needs of the students as best I could. I had developed and executed on new courses for my district which allowed me to pursue my personal interest in Improvisation and Film Studies and I was feeling energized. In English class we learned to read stories for meaning.  We got to experience the power of words and learn how to wield them in space to create pictures and emotion and mood.  We talked about how our thoughts were important, practiced sharing them and considered how critically looking at our world was crucial to navigating it successfully. I read novels aloud, creating a shared experience with all students that allowed the reluctant readers to participate in a way they never could if left to "read" by themselves. In Film Studies my

Don't Get in the Wheelbarrow!!

I used to dread going to see my therapist sometimes because I knew I could brew up a whirlwind rant about my workplace, culminating in a giant single sentence tornado that would destroy everything in the room--me included.  First of all they promoted this incompetent woman over me. Then they dumped more on me to do including helping HER staff. Then we had retirements that were not replaced..and big capital projects...and operational adjustments while being the only department to implement cost saving operational improvements. Then I get promised a title change but it never happens and then... (Even now I feel the urge to type out every minute detail just to know I am not crazy and these things are really horrible and evil and awful and they should all just----)   DEEEP BREATH!   At Inner Mean Girl Reform School our first lesson was to identify the inner mean girls who  tell you BIG FAT LIES about yourself and set you off on an inner dialogue that fuels the tornado. Tur

Open House, Open Heart

It's funny how the universe sends you things you need....when you need them most.  Two days ago the radio was blaring the warning that Christmas was only a month away.  Yesterday it reminded everyone that a month from now all the Christmas hubbub would be over and you would be left with a mess or alternatively, standing in line somewhere to save $50 off a TV you really don't need.   I have to admit, I would love to go back to a time when I was just the kid...and the only thing I had to do was browse the Sears Wishbook (over and over)---or tag along behind my Nana as we paused at each of the meticulously decorated windows at the Simpsons building downtown in the 'big city'.  Stress was reserved for grownups.  I dreamed of sleigh bells in the air, snowmen I would build and the smell of eggnog and aftershave as 50 or more people filled out house each Christmas Eve.  Cookies were consumed, candy jars raided, fires crackled and laughter filled the house with a loving

THE WALL

I feel like I have come a long way in my journey back to self---or more accurately, journey on to new self.  About a year ago I was trying to find a comfortable way to sit on the couch as shingles like nerve pain razor through my flanks and back.  About a year ago the Spouse took 9 children to a bowling alley, did cake and presents for our then 8 year old, while I was curled up in a ball crying --full of guilt, pain and hopelessness. Last year at this time exactly I was in the adult mental health ward of the local hospital---Day 1. It is a slow journey---and I have never been known for my patience, but I AM trying to let it happen as it happens.   I celebrate that I have committed to the gym--to meditation--fellowship--continued learning--time out for massage therapy and acupuncture--and reengaging a creative drive that has been sorely neglected.  Simple things have come back to me---like being able to read---like being able to follow a recipe...like laughter. And I have overcom

Gone Fishin' - Back in 10 Minutes - Out to Lunch

You know that game where you use tiny tweezers to extract cute little plastic pieces  from a cartoon patient without touching the metal sides of the gaping wounds in his body?  One slip and a loud  "EEEEEHHHHHHHHHHH"  pierces the air.  You drop the item and someone else takes a turn. Yesterday, I felt a bit like the guy on the table.  Looks like fun to carefully pull things out for a closer work, but if you keep at it, your hands are going to start to shake with the continued effort to be delicate and you are inevitably gonna hear more and more of the "EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH". For lesson one, Inner Mean Girl Reform school has asked me to take a look inside to get to know my inner mean girls.  Tease them out into the light where I could get a good look at them.  It is sort of like trying to pluck them out of your subconscious to have a little meet and greet with them...get to know them...learn their names....see what it is they think their job is.....

Going Back to School

I have been struggling to sit quietly and recognize what resonates within my heart...what makes it sing and dance and feel joy and light....I have recognized I practically glow in an environment of learning.   I've told this story before--but this is a quick summary for my IMG classmates. Returning to University at 34, a single mom, starting a Masters in Library and Information Science, (half way across the country from where I was living, but close to my family), I could not believe that my sole job for each three hour lecture was to sit, with coffee in hand, consuming, interpreting, assessing and questioning the words that filled the air with potential and purpose. Sometimes I would catch myself smiling for no reason, certainly not when deadlines piled up and papers were due, but in the stillness of the lecture hall, I felt it hard to contain the giddiness that bubbled in my heart. That was 13 years and one breakdown ago.  This feeling was rekindled when I tool my oldes

May the Force be With You!

Star Wars Episode 4 -  A New Hope debuted in 1977.   I was ten.   I fell in love with it immediately.     It had a princess, handsome good guys, scary bad guys and AMAZING special effects that transported me (Ooo mixed reference as transporters are clearly associated with Star Trek---and Yes, I think you can love them both) from my seat in the theatre to the cockpit of Luke's X-Wing fighter as he bobbed and weaved on his trench run to deliver the fatal proton torpedo that destroyed the Death Star.     My sixty-something grandfather took me to see it, probably my third time, and his only comment on the movie was: "It was too loud".   Twenty years later, I got to share my love of Star Wars with my now, 18 year old.  He was four and we sat on the ground for three hours in line, in the rain, at our tiny town's one theatre to see the Phantom Menace.  Ok so in retrospect, it was maybe not a good idea to have him watch Darth Maul get cut in half but I would

Path to Finding Your Purpose

This morning, I am remembering a day in March, when my oldest scheduled a tour of  a potential university to attend and The Spouse was unable to take him.  It was a formal orientation with presentations and a meet and greet with faculty so it would be important to his decision.   I was newly finished my 8 week adult day treatment program and instead of feeling refreshed and enlightened, I was battered and bruised, brutally raw and vulnerable.  Don't get me wrong, there was never a more supportive environment -- full of information, handouts and opportunities to share, be heard, and feel loved. But here I was, taking my first few wobbly steps on the high wire and I felt messy and uncoordinated; like I was struggling to hear my more enlightened voice over the ear piercing alarm going off in my head.   Days leading up to going, I carefully juggled every mind trap we had explored:  what if we get lost and never make it there? (catastrophizing) All these other parents will

Amy Ahlers - Turning You Inner Mean Girl into Your Inner Superhero

I am sure, in the last 100 or so posts, I wrote about how I was "awakening" to all the things around me in this life, and how I wondered if they had been there all the time but I never noticed them.   I thought when I started writing that I was the only one going through this mid-life awakening.  I thought I was the only one who was suddenly trying to look at the world through eyes that were learning to be compassionate and loving toward myself and others.   Wow was I wrong.  Like a flower, slowly opening to meet the sun, I strive to absorb the wisdom and guidance of some amazingly brave, warm, daring, bright-light women, who honor their true purpose in life by reaching out and saying: I see you. I know you. I have been you. You are enough. You are worth it. You matter. Be brave Be strong. Carry on. They inspire me every day; keep me steady; take me out of my comfort zone in loving arms, and bring me back to myself; to a more meaningful, p

Gentle Reminders are all Around Us

Have you ever tried to find something that you KNOW should be there and it just isn't?  That was me the last two days; frantically searching for my hair product container. I was SURE I used it in the bathroom.  A search and second search of each drawer and cupboard proved futile.  I was then SURE I used it in my bedroom.  I searched each surface where I could have possible set it--twice. Nothing.   It was so frustrating because I knew it was there.  I felt like if I just searched hard enough I would be able to find it.  Finally I gave up. I felt a bit like I was loosing it---misplacing things---not being clear headed and in the moment when I used it.  Why didn't I put it back where it was supposed to be? I started to think about the last time I felt this "crazy".  It was about 13 years ago and I was depressed, anxious, on medication and off work.  It is a similar story.  Gave too much to work--had nothing left for me. What amazes me now is that somehow, in the

Support at Starbucks

MAG is over.  No more Mondays and Wednesdays at the hospital.  No more being accountable to someone else. No more readings and assignments and goal setting.  No more self assessment handouts.  No more environment where people listen, and nod and smile and offer support.  No more reality checks from a nurse therapist and psychologist.   Here it is Monday----I am at the end of my book and so far ---there is no Monster at the End of MY book. There is just me.  And that is a bit scary. Because I can be my own Monster...and Momster.  I can be tempted by my flannel sheets to stop getting up early.  I can eat directly from the cookie bag. I can sit in yoga pants each and every day.  I can let golden moments slip by because I am not present in the precious days of my son's love and snuggles.   But today ---I am not a monster.  Today I went to the gym (an hour before my class started---by accident) and walked the treadmill to Kelly and (what happened to Regis?)  and then did