Blog

Posted on

Summers at Grandma’s Farm

My summers at Grandma’s farm are some of my most cherished memories. I loved spending all day outside running around the yard with my sister and/or cousins.

I know memory is malleable so my memory of Grandma’s farm is always sunny. I suppose by law of averages it had to have been raining at least once or twice while I was there but I have no memory of that, just pure sunshine and happy days.

At Grandma’s farm there was a sandbox, which I don’t think we ever played in, but we used to walked around balancing on the narrow edges. There was a large, squeaky swing set that had one of those two-seater see-saw swings. My cousin called it the pee-pee squeezer because when you got going high enough the angle of the swinging poles met the metal of the seesaw poles and, if you were sitting close enough, well you can imagine!

My grandma had a very large garden that she would weed early in the mornings, she was always barefoot in the garden––I remember my her telling me about how she loved to run around barefoot, even though her father had spent good money to make sure all the kids had shoes, (she grew up in the Great Depression); I still remember the look on her face as she told me, I could tell she was reliving the joy of those barefoot moments while also appreciating the sacrifices her father had made to provide shoes. I mean, wow, it was a beautiful moment and I treasure that she shared it with me. She rarely spoke of her childhood or her past. She was very good at living in the moment.

There was also a long row of crab apple trees all along one side of the garden and my sister and/or cousins and I could spend all day outside, climbing those trees and eating as many apples as we wanted. We would pull kholrabi out of the garden and take it inside for Grandma to peel it for us so we could walk around eating it like a lollipop, holding it by the stem and chomping the crunchy turnip.

The big door to the garage was always open and inside the garage there was a freezer/fridge. The fridge was always full of Grandma’s cannings and yummy pickles, as well as spooky things like head cheese––I was going to say this is spooky for kids, but let’s face it, even for adults it’s spooky; some people love it though, weirdos! BUT… The best part of that freezer/fridge was the other side, the freezer side that was always fully stocked with Freezies, Revel-O’s and Drumstiks! There was no limit to how many we could eat. We could go back to that freezer again and again if we wanted to. Even though you’d think a kid would take advantage of that, I would say we still ate way more fresh carrots, kholrabis and apples, etc than we ever did freezies. I believe the wisdom of being connected to nature like that and eating fresh from the ground kept those nasty sugar cravings in check. Unfortunately, due to commercial farming and other unsustainable practices, I don’t think a lot of our food has the same nutritional content nowadays as it once did.

There were a couple of tricycles at Grandma’s farm, a big one and a small one, also a few of pairs of old roller-skates and skipping ropes; sometimes we would tie the skipping ropes to the pole supports in the basement and then whip around them on rollerskates. There was no shortage of things to do at Grandma’s farm, it was never boring. Actually, the phrase “I’m bored” probably only ever came out of my mouth once in my life, maybe twice; my mom always said “only boring people get bored.” It’s true.

When I imagine Heaven, it looks a lot like summers at Grandma’s farm.

Posted on

The Burning House

When I was a kid, probably somewhere around the ages of 5-7, there was a good chunk of time when I was afraid to go to sleep because I was terrified that the house would catch fire when we were asleep. Sometimes, during the summer months when the days were long but we still had to go to sleep while the sun was out, I would sit at my window and imagine how I would escape if the house did catch fire. I wondered if I could be brave and fast enough to tie the blankets and sheets together and use them to climb down from my window.

This lasted for a long time, maybe close to a year. I don’t remember how I got over it, maybe because other circumstances would develop that would occupy my thoughts instead. Nevertheless, it was a very real fear for a good long while.

I actually forgot about that fear for a very long time, and even when it did come back to mind, I couldn’t understand why I was so afraid of our house catching fire. I didn’t know anyone who had died in a fire or even anyone whose house had burned down. I just remember that I was so afraid of this, to the point of losing sleep over it.

And then one day, while describing to someone how my dad loved to take pictures, and it all came flooding back. (He was very meticulous about pictures––of course, this was in the day when you didn’t want to waste your film so you had to get the shot just right. He still takes pictures like this, mind you, just with his smartphone now so it’s even more annoying when you have to hold your smile for 7 minutes.) We had all been on the way somewhere, most likely on one of our annual road trips down to Mexico, and if Dad saw something that he wanted to photograph we had to pull over so he could. This one time, there was a big house in the middle of nowhere all ablaze. I don’t remember anything or anyone else around, just a big house on fire in the middle of the prairies, and my dad had to photograph it. Did I bother to ask why the house was on fire or how it happened? I don’t know. All I knew was that if it was possible for that house, in the middle of nowhere with no one else around to catch fire, how much more likely was a house with people who lived and cooked and sometimes lit candles in it to catch fire?

I didn’t realize, of course, that my brain had made that association at the time, so my fear of our house burning down made no rational sense. I wonder if I ever even told anyone in my family how I felt. Did they have any idea how terrified I was about this?

Now, with my work in holistic energy practices, it’s easy to understand that the brain makes those subconscious connections. Still it is nonetheless fascinating to see how all those things come together to bring us to the paradigms, beliefs and stories we come to live our lives by. And even more wonderful and fascinating that we have the power and the ability to change those stories to better serve us; that we can be empowered and emboldened to live beyond just the sum of our experiences.

Posted on

He’s Having a Cornea

My 6th grade teacher had a heart attack right in front of us, in the middle of class. The thing is I had no idea at the time. I mean, I watched it happen, but the full weight of what was happening just did not connect.

He was talking and then he stopped. He put one hand on his chest and the other arm reached out, (did he grab a chair??) and he started to go down. Was it slow motion, or is it just my memory seeing it that way? I don’t know. He didn’t fall, he just ever so slowly started to bend his knees.

We had an open concept classroom at that school, thank God, so one of the other teachers saw what was happening, rushed over to help him before he could even go down and called, “He’s having a coronary!” to one of the other teachers. I had never heard that word before, but I knew that the cornea was part of the eye, so I was relieved to know that he just had something really serious in his eye. Did they dismiss us to recess? I honestly don’t remember. I don’t remember seeing the paramedics take him away. I don’t remember anything after seeing the other teacher rush to his aide and say what she said. And I basically put the whole thing out of my mind, and brushed it off because I figured he’d be ok once he got that thing out of his eye.

It wasn’t until many years later that I was talking with my mom about someone else having a heart attack or coronary that it clicked what had happened.

I was going to say that I don’t know whatever happened to him. Did he make it? Did he come back to school? But now as I am typing this, I think I vaguely remember that he did come back to teach after some time away, and I seem to remember that I was wondering why he didn’t have an eye patch––I mean, if you take that much time away for your eye, it’s gotta be serious, right? Like, serious enough to warrant an eye patch.

What impresses me was that they did a great job of shielding the kids from any trauma witnessing that may have caused––at least, I think so, I don’t keep in touch with anyone else who would have been in that class so I don’t know if they were affected at all. What amazes me, though, is how little I knew or understood about that and how much of that was that the teachers sheltered us well, and how much of it was my own unawareness? How much did the teachers/parents expect us to know and how much did they expect us not to know?

One thing I remember feeling often as a kid/youth is “Why doesn’t anyone just explain things to me?” I so often felt like no one was communicating with me. Not just about my teacher’s incident, but so many other things in life too. Why won’t anyone explain it to me? Would I have understood? Would I have listened?

Posted on

Little Things

Anyone who has lived through the year 2020, and now moving in to 2021, knows what I’m talking about when I say sometimes you need a little encouragement. And this morning, God gave me a little sign that filled me with gratitude and hope.

Yesterday afternoon, when I went to pick up my youngest from school, I suddenly found myself thinking about some new friends we had made just over a year ago at the local YMCA. It gets very cold during winter here we live so when our kids would have their Saturday morning swimming lessons, my husband and I would relax in the hot tub. We met some really great people there whose kids were in the same swimming classes as our kids and one weekend we had them all over for tacos––my husband and I love to host people, enjoy the company and share the joy of authentic Mexican food. We had a great time, but it wasn’t very long after that they decided to basically shut down the whole world for the “pandemic”; we were not able to continue cultivating that new friendship.

Yesterday afternoon, I found myself wondering if I would ever see those people again. Would we ever see a world again in which we are “allowed” to go to the gym again, “allowed” make new friends again?

I had a moment, I refuse to break, mind you, but I had a moment of nostalgia; of missing “the way things were”. One of those moments when your heart sinks just a little and you long for different times and you know that if you stay on that path and continue it could lead to darker places. It was fleeting.

Then, this morning, when I sat down to do my morning devotions and prayer, I saw quickly the name of the person I had been thinking about yesterday pop up on my Telegram. It was amazing! It was like a wink from God, a little nudge that said “I’m here and I’m listening. I care even about the little things and I care enough to show you.” What are the chances that I don’t think about that person for months and then their name pops up within less than 24 hours?!

I took a moment to say Hi and send blessings to my friend. And I took a moment to praise God and thank Him for taking care to show me His love even in the little things.

Posted on

Writing My Story

I have recently begun a writing workshop, a 7-day book writing challenge by Hay House. I have been meaning to start writing my story since last fall as part of a business program I had committed to. But every time I determined to do it I would inevitably have all kinds of other things to do; my procrastination pattern I mentioned in a previous post was trying to rear its ugly head.

After Day One of the writing challenge, my story is pouring out of me. I have only begun to dictate bits and pieces in my Notes app as they come to me, but this is more than I have done, ever.

Four days before the writing challenge started, I wrote down my goals for this year; one of those goals was to write my story. One week before writing down my goals, I registered for the Hay House writing challenge–something a dear friend sent to me. And exactly one month before that, I made my commitment to write a blog post everyday for 100 days. This is the physics of progress, as one of my mentors would say. I’m biting off pieces that I can chew. I’m taking action and as my mentor always says, action breeds clarity, clarity breeds awareness, and awareness breeds certainty. Each step I take brings me closer to what I want. Each action I take brings me more clarity. And because I’ve set my intention, (and written it down to make it real), more opportunities keep flowing to me. Everytime I make another move that I know is congruent with where I want to go, my story becomes more and more clear to me. For the longest time, I didn’t think I even had a story, not one anybody would be interested in anyway. I was much too ordinary and insignificant to have a story. How many of you feel this way?

There are parts of my story that I am not looking forward to writing. I know it will be therapeutic, and it’s necessary for my growth and healing. There are things that, had I known then what I know now, I would have done differently. But, it is finally time to talk about those things, because I suspect that many of us have those things that we feel we can’t talk about. No matter how big or small, significant or insignificant they seem in our own eyes or in the eyes of others, we all have those moments that we wish we could undo, or do better; the coveted do-over. If I can talk about my stuff, I can empower you to talk about your stuff; to forgive yourself and learn to know and love yourself so that you too can empower others to know and love themselves and we can have a world full of people who truly love themselves.

Posted on

Conversations

I enjoy conversations, especially the deep ones; philosophical ones, existential ones; conversations about consciousness and the meaning behind the reason.

I mentioned in my previous post, that I’d rather be alone reading or thinking about something deep that to be in a superficial conversation. Don’t get me wrong, I can do the superficial conversation thing, and even enjoy it, but it’s not my preference. I also realize that you don’t just jump into those deep conversations with most people; you have to kind of feel it out first. Some people are afraid to go there, some people have no idea where there even is.

I’m thinking of particular person that I can’t even say the work “Reiki” around. Many people have at least heard of Reiki, are a little bit curious about it, or have even tried it. But when I say this word or even the word energy around her, it’s like I can almost see her floating out of her body. No joke, she completely goes somewhere else. So we talk about other things, the weather, her grown kids, her health issues that began seemingly out of nowhere and will likely “force” her to retire early; from a consciousness perspective, I can see other things going on here, but she can’t hear that, so I just listen.

One time, I had a booth at a trade show and got to talking with the pleasant couple across the aisle from me when we had down time. Mostly he was at their booth, so we talked more, but occasionally she would come around with their little one and bring food. He had been asking about my energy work and practice when his wife joined us, and I was about to tell a story that had something to do with a woman and her pregnancy (this was a long time ago, so I can’t remember the story, it’s not really relevant other than how it affected the energy). She was hanging on to my words, I could see the interest, she wanted to know all about it, but I got to a certain point and the energy in front of him was suddenly as if a huge iron gate had just slammed down, “Whatever you’re about to say, DON’T.” I could tell his wife was waiting for me to tell the story, but I pretended to get distracted and trail off and the energy instantly lifted. The interesting thing was, I don’t really know if he was conscious of any of that. I’m not really sure that he was even aware that it happened; to this day, I wonder. In any case, it was not a conversation that was meant to happen at that moment. I will never forget how tangible that energy was.

This isn’t really the kind of thing I can tell people, though, because unless they are also aware of energy, they will either think I’m full of it; believe that they are impervious, or worry that I am reading their minds, (which I am not, just reading the energy). It’s also why I don’t enjoy the superficial conversations as much, I’d much rather be exploring the energy behind what people are saying.

Posted on

Slacking

I’ve been slacking in my posts. I know what this is. I’m not lazy; it’s my procrastination pattern. I tend to put off important things, for a number of reasons: fear of being really good at it and then having the responsibility of having to be even better; fear of not being good at all and then become a laughing stock (of who? of what? I don’t know but I guess this is probably a more common fear than we fool ourselves into believing when the fear is pushing at us); needing the pressure of a tighter deadline to motivate me and push me––there’s something about accomplishing under pressure that I really enjoy, and I do always come through. So why am I slacking?

I have a number of things I want to say. Deep things. I’m not really one to have a lot of superficial conversations. They bore me, and I’d rather be alone reading or thinking about something deep than be in a superficial conversation. So, I haven’t really been slacking, I’ve been putting it off because I want to introduce myself a little. And so I can get used to the way I think and how it comes out in my writing style. It always makes so much sense in my head and my hope is that I can translate that energy into words that makes sense for the reader as well.

The very fact that I’m attempting to apologize for and explain my slacking should tell you, at least, that I am aware of it and working on it. I will get better. And because I may have very few, if any, readers at this point, (unless you’ve found this blog by accident because I have not put it out there or promoted it in any way yet), this is mostly reassurance for myself. I’m recognizing my patterns, I am aware of my fears and hesitations and because I know myself, I know I’m moving forward.

Posted on

Sweat

I decided that sweat was what was missing, at this point in time, to help pull me up out of my Funk. This morning I would do a more vigorous workout and listen to some *music that motivates me.

A slight speed-walk/jog to get warmed up, squats, with and without the bar, lunges, without weights for now, jumping-jacks, push-ups and stretches. Ok, maybe it sounds easy, but I’ve been mostly just walking for the last 8 months or so, maybe more. Yeesh! Lazy!

I mean, don’t get me wrong, walking is very beneficial, and some would say better than running which is very hard on your joints. But, it’s also very soft energy, too much time thinking, not enough doing, at least for me. However, in the interest of knowing and honouring myself, I recognize there was a period of time in which that is what I needed; I slowed down and took time. Something I actually had to learn the hard way, as I will eventually explain in a later post.

This morning, after my more vigorous workout, I do feel more motivated. This is even my second post for the day. Which, I need to do because I have quite a few days of slacking with no posts to make up for.

Because of certain things I have learned about myself, through years of observation, (yes, you can observe yourself and I believe one should––don’t just go blindly through life never thinking about what and why you do what you do), and through examination of my LifePrintOS profile, I knew this “sweat” approach would help me. I have a good amount of motivational performance energy in my LifePrint under a High Achiever archetype so I am very goal-oriented.

Walking is a great exercise and it’s calmer softer energy plays to my “Connector” energies in my LifePrint by giving me time alone to connect with myself and move my body while doing so. However, I now knew it was time to get motivation going by tapping into my “Optimizer” energy, the one that likes to get the maximum benefit for the minimum effort. Playing to my goal-oriented High Achiever archetype, I knew I could do this by working up a sweat. In this case, the “sweat” was the goal. And tomorrow morning I’ll know if I hit the other target if I realize it’s hard to sit down––I like knowing I put in a good effort and the sore muscles are confirmation; I said sore muscles, not injuries, let’s be clear. Considering that my legs feel a bit like jelly when I go down the stairs I think there’s a good chance I achieved.

It is very good to have this kind of information from LifePrint because I can use it to my advantage and also look at how certain situations might be a “disadvantage” or rather, I can know where my susceptibilities are and look at how to turn it around by using other energies in my LifePrint to compliment and make up for the perceived disadvantages. And this, of course, lights up my achiever reward centres too because one of my other major “goals” is to know myself. To know what makes me tick, what lights me up, what motivates me, what I need to watch for and how to bolster my susceptibilities.

Time to get the motivation flowing, so for now, I work up a sweat in the mornings, before anyone else gets up. I start the day achieving and it makes way for more achievements.

*There was a period of time when I was running a lot; it doesn’t agree with my body, but I enjoy it SO MUCH! This is a list I made to motivate me through the first 10K race I ever signed up for. The original list was a little different as I have since added and subtracted from it, but this it what keeps my going when I do still occasionally go for a run.

Posted on

In a Funk

This is what I call it when I can’t seem to shake a cloud over me; a lack of motivation. It took me three days to get out the previous post and it was “crap”. I’ve got crap in quotes because it just is what it is. It’s not like it was total crap but I felt I could have done better. Except, I couldn’t because if I could have I would have! That was all that was flowing out of me.

So, I had to examine: what the heck has got me in this funk? (I mean aside from the world being in the whole stupid “pandemic” situation and people ignoring all the good news about masks not really being effective and the PCR tests being unreliable and therefore making lockdowns based on these tests illegal, and of course the survival rate being 99%––How can people not be relieved when they hear this news?? “Oh you mean I don’t have to wear this stupid mask everywhere I go, hide out in my home, never see my friends, and let my grandma die alone in what has basically become her prison? That’s great news! Anyway, I digress.)

I am usually a very motivated person, it takes a lot to get me down. The first thing I look at when I do feel down is: did I get a good sleep last night? Or for the last few nights in a row? I do not do well with no sleep (my husband might say that’s an understatement); feeling tired is maybe literally the only thing that can get me down. If I feel down, the answer to that question is usually, “No, I didn’t.” But, if I know I have been getting to bed early, sleeping enough hours and waking up at a consistent time and I still don’t feel like I can muster the gusto, what’s next? Have I been eating well? Is there something in my diet I should be avoiding for a while? (Yes, coffee, but I’m still enjoying a cup as I write this––even people who are dedicated to their growth have vices… it just smells so good and tastes so yummy!) Where am I at in my cycle? I have noticed that I have better sleep, or lack of sleep, at certain points in my cycle. Have I spent time with God lately? Yes, lots. Prayer? Meditation? Maybe not enough quiet meditation. Am I bored? The truth is I have lots of work to keep me busy, though I do miss seeing lots of people, working with a team, things like that. Anyway, my point is I look at the Funk and ask what is this? and what can I do about it?

Then I remembered, I have not run in a very long time. I really enjoy running but it doesn’t agree with my body, for now. I get up and walk every morning on the treadmill, or sometimes outside with a friend who lives nearby. I realized, however, that what I am missing was the energized feeling that came from more vigorous exercise. (This is where I start to introduce some concepts from LifePrintOS, a system I use in my practice.) I have a High Achiever archetype so I feel best when I accomplish and the “accomplished” feeling that comes from a good workout would not only give me the jumpstart I’m looking for; it’s also a good thing to honour and respect my body by challenging it and giving it what it needs.

That may not seem like a ground-breaking realization, but one of my main tenets is that it is important for one to know oneself. And that is where I’m going with these posts.

Posted on

Aim

So, I haven’t been that great at keeping up the post a day for a 100 days commitment––I’ve let a few days slide here and there. I also told myself when I started this, though, that I would be kind to myself and give myself the space I needed to do that if I needed to. My family is still young and requires a lot of time.

It matters that I can pay attention to what my kids need, what my husband needs and, of course, what I need. And this last one is important, because it’s kind of the whole point I’m doing any of this in the first place: what do I need? There was definitely a time when I didn’t even stop to ask that question, I thought I had to be what everyone needed me to be. The difference now is that I actually have the space and margin in my life to do all that and make time for my projects.

The main reason that I gave myself the 100 Days challenge was to have a goal in mind, even if I didn’t do exactly 100 posts in 100 days––I will do 100 posts, it just may take me longer than 100 days. I know that I work best when I have a goal in mind, a target to aim for. I know this about myself so, naturally, I will use it to my advantage; that’s the point. This goal of writing a post a day for 100 days is also meant to help me get into the habit and flow of writing, which it has, to an extent.

Another thing that causes resistance within me is that sometimes my thoughts are bigger than the space I have to write. It takes a while to form my thoughts, to put them into words that can somehow manage to convey what I am thinking. Why? Because I think a lot. I don’t mean this in a presumptuous way, just that I think a lot and I don’t always know where to start. What matters is that I write and that I do it often. So, no more procrastinating because I feel uninspired, or too inspired. It is time now, to stick to my task and do what I set out to do. One day at a time.