We can’t control everything and the hair on my head often reminds me of that. I’m fighting a loosing battle with my straightners. Unable to tame the frizz because of the Queensland humidity. I see it as a reminder, that my inner Wild Woman doesn’t want to be tamed. So, I’ve been doing a little less grooming.

Embracing my inner Troll Goddess

I wake up and do very little with my hair these days, and I actually love the wildness of my unruly mop. Salty ocean air loves it too, transforming my frizz into defined curly locks, that matter together. Giving me a kinda surfy, hippy bo-ho look that I love so much.

It’s been 10 days since I shaved the hair from my legs and underarms. At first it was to stop myself from feeling sexy, so I wouldn’t flirt with the idea of casual sex. I know myself well and don’t want to weaken under the heat of the sun. I neither want to fall for the false promises of pleasure, nor the hope for romance this Spring. I’m feeling somewhat disheartened when it comes to love. I need to refind my hope in men and my faith in relationship.

So, I figured in a moment of weakeness, then my hairy legs would become my salvation. Men wouldn’t be aroused by my furry leg warmers, and sex and love would both remain just a fantasy in my own head and heart.

But it’s expanded beyond that. The hairier I become, the more empowered I feel. I suppose it’s reflects my readiness to embrace the woman I am in her entirity, without seeking validation or approval from others?

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been confronting my shadow that surfaced. The parts of myself that needed to be seen, that were difficult to see. My faults, flaws, failings and fuck ups.

In truth, I’m both a sinner and a saint, neither perfect, nor evil. Just a beautiful complex contradiction and an extraordinary BEing of the human kind. A woman of love and light, who dances in the dark of shadow lands. A woman with faults and flaws, who has fucked up and failed, and she is all the more beautiful because of them. But I haven’t always seen or appreciated my own worth or value.

Maybe that’s what’s changing?

I’ve been contemplating getting highlights instead of recolouring my hair. Keen to embrace the natural beauty of my curls, fading colour and the sparkles of silver that’s becoming more and more plentiful upon my crown.

The more time I spend in the sun, the more I notice the appearance of natural copper and bronze highlights upon my crown. Maybe it’s Nature’s way of letting me know I’m far more precious than I realize? Perhaps we don’t need a lavishly expensive jewelled crown to be a Queen? Maybe the treasure and power is flowing from my very own crown chakra?

After the dark night of my soul during New Moon, I’m ready to embrace the new energy of Full Moon. And this Spring I thank Universe for the blessings I have and am yet to receive.

Blessed BE ❤

We all have regrets in life and we all struggle sometimes, which is why I’m sharing this with you. In my solitude I was spending more and more time on my mobile phone, scrolling through Facebook, but it wasn’t inspiring me. As we counted down to Mam’s 2nd year anniversary, memories popping up were difficult to relive and I was becoming more and more irritated by Facebook.

Aggravated by those who were happy. Envious of those who were succeeding in life. Annoyed with those who were hiding behind walls of bullshit. Bothered by the lack of authentic truths. Desperate for something honest, real and raw because no one was sharing anything close to how I was thinking and feeling, which only made me feel even more agitated.

Facebook, like most other social media platforms is full of people sharing the highlights of their lives, or how to get there. Not many people openly share the lows and even fewer are sharing the uglier truths as they flow. So, knowing that things were only gonna get rougher for me, I decided to log off Facebook for a while. To focus a little more attention on my own life, and a little less on what every fucker else was or wasn’t doing. Yup, I had a bad attitude and I knew it, so I wasn’t in any mood to be told “be positive” or “stay fucking strong.”

Being a woman of extremes, a few days before Halloween I was detoxing from the substance abuse of sugar highs and comforting carbs. I suppose part of me had decided she was ready to sit with her trauma. But I was already starting to struggle with the memories surfacing. So, I hydrated and made sure there wasn’t any booze in the van, because I needed a clear mind to deal with what was coming. Having acknowledged I’m riding waves of Post Traumatic Stress, I’ve been confronting each experience as they flow. Consciously choosing to relive the difficult moments, to determine what I’m still holding onto. So I can release myself from the past and move more confidently into the future, with more love and less fear. But I was anxious about Halloween because last year I focused on spirit, and this year I’m feeling the heaviness of multiple losses and regrets.

October 31st 2017 I wrote …

Caring for Mam at Yam, during her final stage of life, is challenging us all, as we each confront our own individual fears and anxieties. I’m so proud of how well my Dad and sisters are handling this, but I’ve been disappointed in myself. Since bringing Mam home from the hospice, I’ve been struggling with inner conflicts and anxiety. I’ll be honest, ever since Mam expressed her wish to die at home, the anxiety in my heart has been constant. As visions of every confronting and challenging death I’ve experienced have flashed into my mind. So, I asked myself …

What are you most afraid of ?

I’m afraid that Mams lungs will fill up with fluid and she will feel like she’s drowning
I’m afraid we wont have what we need to maintain her comfort at Yam
I’m afraid that Mam will fight death right to the end
I’m afraid that Mam will become agitated and anxious
I’m afraid that Mam will suffer instead of passing away peacefully

The truth is, the nurse in me is seeing things the daughter doesn’t want to see. The nurse knows things the daughter doesn’t want to know. The daughter is somewhere she doesn’t really want to be, doing something she doesn’t want to do. Although I want to fulfill Mam’s dying wishes, she was supposed to be much older. Although I’ve assisted with many deaths, I’m struggling to care for my Mam because this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. For weeks I’ve been battling with myself, then a few days ago a familiar aroma tickled my senses, bringing my intuition to full attention. A knowing that death is near was a prompt from Universe to be fully present with what IS. To get out of my head and BE in the moments, however difficult they are. Tonight I sense deaths presence as my parents sleep. It dances around our beloved Mother and taunts our beloved Father. But instead of fearing it, I invite it to come sit with me awhile, as if it were an old friend. I imagine death taking form and giving me its full attention. 

I have a few things to say to you, so listen carefully …

Truth is, I don’t fear you as I once did because sometimes life scares me more than you do. I’ve become more grateful for life and less afraid of you, but I’m troubled about you coming to take my parents away so soon. Although I believe in spirit, I’m not ready to let them go. Ironic, how I’m sitting here with you today of all days. On All Hallows Eve. The day when the veil between life and death is at its thinnest. When the boundary between this world and Other Worldly dimensions can be crossed. A time when we’re more able to connect with our ancestors and the energy of spirit. A time when the air is full of death, rebirth and magic, but its a familiar feeling I’ve felt on other days too. Every time a life comes to an end in the nursing home, the veil thins so their spirit can cross over. Something that isn’t seen but its an energy I can feel. But I also sense your presence when ever loss has touched my life in some way. Abortion, miscarriage, divorce, heart breaks and shattered dreams. I know you are’t the frightening Grim Reaper that people fear. I now know you as an energy that’s always present and you take various forms. I know you as the Dark Goddess who comes to burn away what no longer serves me. And I know you as the guide who supports my spiritual growth on my souls journey. So, instead of focusing on my beloved Mothers death, perhaps it will be easier for me to focus on her transition? So, I’ll confront the unknown, trusting that we are supported by spirit, as we prepare our beloved Mother for her journey. Death, I’m not angry with you because I know your presence is spirit. And in the deepest core of my being, I believe her journey isn’t over, so I ask you to please carry her gently and help us to support the transition of her spirit. 

I didn’t share these words because within moments my experience suddenly changed, and those words were no longer my truth. Death had double crossed me and my faith was once again shaken.

I recall the details of that night vividly, as if it was only yesterday …

My sisters and I were taking it in turns to sit at Mam’s bedside throughout the night. We were monitoring her pain to ensure comfort. Dad never left Mam’s side, he slept on a single bed that was pushed up against the hospital bed, so he could hold her hand as she slept. Such moments were bitter sweet to witness, because it was both beautiful and painful to see. We had brought Mam home from the hospice because it was her wish to die at Yam, surrounded by family. She was sleeping most of the time, becoming a little more agitated during her wakeful moments, but we held off on sedation because Mam wanted to hang onto as many wakeful moments as she could, as did we. Those moments were so very precious and we wanted as much time with her as we could, no matter how difficult it was to watch her fading away before our very eyes.

It was Halloween night 2017 and I was sitting in the chair beside Mam’s bed. I had lit a candle for our ancestors who were in spirit, and I wrote about how I was thinking and feeling. I took a photo of my parents as they slept because as morbid as it may sound to some, it was an image I wanted to remember and a moment I needed to capture. Perhaps it was for these words and for this blog?

My thoughts and writing were interrupted when Dad woke up. He made a cuppa and we sat on his bed eating mince pies, talking about what was happening. Like many others, it was a difficult conversation to be having because we didn’t want this to be our reality, but it was. Mam began to stir and woke up, but her eyes were glazed and she looked tired. I felt the need to tell her it was OK to let go, so I did. Dad and I told her that none of us wanted her to go, but we would be OK because we would look after each other. I told her how much she was loved and thanked her for being such a wonderful Mam. It was a conversation that distressed us all because Mam became agitated. She was unable to communicate with us and no matter what we did we couldn’t comfort her. I often wonder what she was trying to say. I wonder if she was angry with me because she didn’t want us to let go, or if she was upset because she couldn’t tell us something important.

I recall the details of that night vividly because it was one of those moments of impact. The kind of experience that lingers long after its gone. It was 2am and I was in a state of panic, so I woke my sister so she could support our parents, while I tried to hold it together and call the nurse on call, to discuss the best course of action. But I didn’t want to be the nurse, I wanted to be the daughter sitting beside my Mam, but the daughter had fucked up. I didn’t want the responsibility of medications, I wanted a medical team to take over because I knew we were nearing the end, and I didn’t want this to be the end. Not like this, but truth is, I didn’t want any of this. And I couldn‘t help but think, we were going to be doing it all again for Dad, and I wasn‘t sure if I could do it.

I was having the conversation on the phone, while standing in the garden. I could hear my Dad sobbing in the bedroom, as he offered words of comfort to Mam. I heard my sister doing her best to reassure them both, but I felt the ache in her heart. I tried to focus on what the nurse was saying, who was telling me it was time to give the sedation. But I didn’t want to sedate my Mam because she didn’t need it until I opened my big mouth. I felt responsible and guilty for having upset her. It was all my fault and I had failed everyone again. I felt my knees weaken and I wanted to fall down. I wanted to scream and shout and cry. I wanted to feel the unbearable pain in my heart, but instead I wrapped it all up in regret and suppressed it. Telling myself, that what I was feeling wasn’t important. Reminding myself, that Mam and Dad were the ones who mattered most right now, but my thoughts tormented me.

“What were you thinking you fucking fool?”
“Why the fuck did you have to say that?”
“She wants you to fight for her, not let her go”
“Why aren’t you fighting for her life?”
“Why are you accepting her death?”

Unfortunately, we had to sedate Mam that night and it was the last time she was awake, which is why that night still haunts me. If only I hadn’t said anything. If only I had just kept my big mouth shut. If only I hadn’t caused so much upset by saying what I thought needed to be said. I know I did what I thought was right, but it wasn’t the right time. I know I was doing the best I could, but my best wasn’t good enough. I know I can’t change anything, but oh my god I want to. I can only accept what was and learn from the experience, which I did. When confronting Dads final months, weeks and days, we couldn’t avoid the elephant in the room, so we talked more openly about death. We focused on his reunion with Mam, which offered us all comfort. We talked more honestly about how to best manage his symptoms, to ensure his struggle didn’t become suffering. And I ensured conversations were had before death made its presence known.

Since Mams passing my own spiritual journey has intensified, but the inner conflicts persist. I‘m still learning how to live in a world where my parents are no longer living, which is a challenging adjustment. But my greatest challenge is the regrets I have, which is why I reflect and write. I’ve come to realize that a woman like me will always have regrets because I dare to say what others don’t want to say, I dare to do what others don’t like to do and I dare to express and expose the flawed human being that I am.

“Make the most of your regrets; never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh.” (Henry David Thoreau)

I’ve been reflecting and writing about my regrets in life. Recently, most of my thoughts and feelings are linked to traumatic experiences from our parents end of life, like Halloween, but other past regrets and trauma began to flow into my mind too. Like a magnet I was attracting more and more regretful thoughts. I became so consumed by my own faults, flaws, failures and fuck ups that I got lost inside of my own mind. Stuck in distorted thinking that was dragging me deeper and deeper into despair. And as I looked at my life, it was easier to believe the negative self talk, which is probably why my thoughts began to turn suicidal. It was hard to sit with those darker thoughts and feel the emotions that flowed, especially when I was alone reliving some painful memories. But that’s where I was and obviously where I was meant to be.

I notice how suicide is a topic that keeps coming up in my life. First, I went to stay with a friend, who has lost mates to suicide. It’s November, which is the month when men’s mental health gets a platform. And in the midst of my own crisis, friends and family were disclosing their own battles with dark thoughts. I got off the phone after talking to someone who was worried about her son and my heart broke. I cried, as I thought about how many others are fighting battles no one sees. I cried, as I thought about my parents pain and suffering. I cried, for all of those people who are suffering from physical pain, mental illness, tormented thoughts, overwhelming emotions and/or anguish they just want to stop. It distresses me to think about how many people feel alone in their struggles. It upsets me to think about how many people don’t notice until its too late. It concerns me to think about how many people abuse substance to cope with pain. And it scares me to think about how many people believe the only way to end their suffering is to kill themselves, yet, I can’t help but think about these things.

Its time we all talk more openly and honestly about our inner dialogue. Because its not so easy to think positive thoughts when life is challenging us and our mental health isn’t OK. We don’t need people telling us to “stay positive” and “be strong.” We need people to listen without judgement nor opinion. For me, these people are my sisters because they know my struggles better than anyone. W’eve always been close and are even closer having gone through what we did together, but what about those who have no family or trusted friends? What about those who find it hard to reach out? Those are the people I think about.

Over the years, there’s been plenty of times when I’ve wanted the mental anguish and emotional pain to just stop. Lately, there’s been moments I’ve been scared and unsure if I could escape the grip of my own irrational thoughts. So, I keep doing what ever feels right for me, holding onto my faith and trusting myself. Focusing on keeping my stress levels low and being gentler with myself.

Truth is, I’m still riding waves because the past still haunts me, the present is challenging me and the future scares me. I neither want to deny nor ignore this truth because I know the regrets I have are the lessons I’m learning, the challenges I have are the changes I’m making and the future is full of possibility. So, I keep writing about my thoughts and feelings because it helps me to process the mess in my mind. And I keep reminding myself that I’m neither broken, nor a victim of my thoughts, but I am a woman of strength, who is becoming whole. Learning how to accept, embrace and love the parts of myself that others prefer not to see. Daring to have the conversations that matter, so others don’t feel so alone in their struggle. Offering hope to those who need it and trusting the process of my healing.

If you’re struggling with your thoughts, then please reach out to someone you trust. You’re not alone with your struggles because we all struggle sometimes. If you don’t have anyone to talk to then support is only a click away. Please don’t suffer in silence because whether you believe it or not, YOU matter. Someone you love needs YOU. Someone you haven’t even met yet is looking forward to meeting YOU one day. YOU make the world a better place just by being in it and YOU are loved and supported always ❤

Wishclocks are significant to me, so  I take notice when they blow into my life.

The 1st time it happened I was in the UK, sitting in the pub garden, writing a postcard to  Kerry. As I finished the sentence “Mam would want us to keep living and loving” a dandelion wishclock seed landed onto the postcard, right next to my pen. The first word that popped into my mind was “Mam”? Then I sat back in my chair and I thought “you’re just hoping it is” and   as that doubting thought left my mind, a small white feather floated down from the sky, right in front of my face and onto my lap.

The 2nd time it happened was last week (1st Nov) while I was editing a blog I wrote 2 years ago. A blog I wrote on Halloween night 2017 while sat at my Mam’s bedside. A blog about a conversation with death. A blog I never shared because within moments my truth changed. While I was re-reading the blog for the 10th time, a tiny something flew past my face and into my top. When I looked inside, there was a tiny wishclock seed on my bra next to my heart. The first word to pop into my mind was “Mam”? but this time there was no doubt, but another word “intentions”? So, I wrote in my journal, clarifying my intentions for writing and sharing the blog.

The 3rd time it happened was afew days later, today (Nov 4th), while I was writing in my journal about my suicidal thoughts. I picked up my phone to finish reading an article about suicide and noticed the time was 3.33, so I googled 333 to remind myself what it meant. Intuitively clicking on the link that felt right …

“A sign to speak your truth by expressing your authentic self. The Universe is guiding you to use your voice to express your emotions, or put your feelings into words that are in harmony with your soul. It is when you speak your truth that you support your soul and find inner peace.” I finished reading it and lifted my head, and a wishclock seed came flying into my face. It came at me with such force, I leaned back in surprise.

I refer to myself as being, the Wish Bone Sister, but in truth, I haven’t been feeling my usual magical self. I’m struggling with my thoughts and feel kinda lost inside of myself. Maybe that’s why Mam choose the wishclock ? Perhaps she’s reminding me to not loose sight of the magic ?

Since Mam’s passing she finds different ways to reach me when I need her most. I only need to stay open and notice when she does. Whenever spirit connects with me I get goosybump feel goods, but I notice how I weep whenever it’s Mam. I suppose it’s a natural bodily response to a child missing her Mother. But it brings me comfort knowing that in some way, she’s still with us. Reminding me that everything is as it should be, no matter how hard it is.

I love you Mam 💗

My Mam died 2 years ago yesterday

An anniversary of a significant death takes us right back to the day it happened. Its no longer just another day like any other day, because it’s now become the day that defines the beginning of the end. A day we want to avoid, but must live through anyways.

This year was different to last …

Last year I wasn’t really grieving the loss of my Mam in the same way as I am today. Although I acknowledged her death and felt the sadness, I was in a different mindset and living in a very different reality. My attention was focused on her transition, not her death. I was opening up to spirit, which is why I didn’t miss Mam in the same way as I do now. I suppose it didn’t really feel like she was gone, because I sensed her presence with me, and I still do.

My struggle was adjusting to the change

On the 1st anniversary of my Mam’s death, I stepped into a future with the man I was in relationship with, so I was a little more hopeful. In reflection, I was dancing around grief. It was too hard to admit to myself that Mam was gone from my life forever. At the time, it was easier to think of her as still being with me in spirit. But eventually, in time, we’re all forced to confront our uglier truths and live the harsher realities.

My world is a little darker without my Mam in it, which is why I like to think of her spirit as being a shining light in my life. I like to think she is guiding me through the darkness, when my own light has faded and I feel lost. It’s true what they say, when we have nothing left to hold onto, we hold onto our faith.

My struggle is with my own thoughts

Life goes on as they say, which is a total crock of shit because life doesn’t just go on. When someone significant is removed from our lives, the world as we knew it has been shattered into pieces. Life no longer makes sense to us, and we struggle to make sense of the world again.

To be honest it kinda feels like life has stood still because I feel stuck, unable to move forward. My sister’s and I can’t really move on until Yam is sorted. And I’m still conflicted with wanting to be with my family and needing to follow my own path, but the path is still unclear.

Grief is complex within itself because we don’t just mourn the loss of our loved ones, its the remaking of our own lives. This anniversary my grief is even more complex because since loosing Mam, my relationship ended, we lost our Dad, I lost my best friend, my job no longer feels like my work and I’m unsure what my work is, life is even more uncertain and I’m in the midst of a personal crisis.

My struggle is with life, not death

Yesterday I was alone with my grief and I didn’t sit well with it. I didn’t really want to be alone, but I was. I didn’t really want to be sober, but I was. With an impressive $3 in the bank until pay day, I couldn’t afford the booze anyway. I couldn’t comfort myself with food because there’s fuck all in the cupboards, nothing comforting anyways. I didn’t have loan of a car because I had already loaned my son’s, so I could get to work and earn the money I need. And I barely had enough energy to lift my head off the pillow, so I wasn’t gonna walk anywhere. So, in all honesty I kinda felt forced to sit with it.

In the morning I sent a message to afew people. But I wonder, who would have reached out to me if I hadn’t sent it ? I wonder, if anyone other than my sisters and Mam’s best mate would have known how hard that day was ? I often wonder who are the people who truly give a shit about how I am ? I wonder because on one of the hardest days of my life, I looked around and I was alone. No one popped in to check on me and no one dropped by to give me a hug, which was upsetting.

It scares me to think about how many people have taken their lives for less. It scares the hell out of me to think about how alone I feel right now. Yet alone I must be because I obviously need to learn how to BE with myself, even when I don’t want to be. At least, I hope that’s the reason why, because I don’t want to believe the voices telling me it’s because I haven’t done enough for others. Because I give as much of myself as I can.

Truth is, I’m once again at the rocky bottom. It doesn’t get any easier to start over in life, but I suppose we do get stronger. I don’t feel strong, but I figure I must have some strength because I’m still here. Having lived through another day I didn’t really want to live through.

I still want to get drunk, but today I don’t want to eat because I have no cravings or appetite. I’m still sitting with the same painful memories, distressing thoughts and uncomfortable emotions.

So, inbetween naps, I write, I process and I feel it ALL because I believe, the only way out is through. Sure, I could go around it, jump over it or avoid it all together, but I choose to live my truth, even when it’s hard to do. Because my parents taught me that life is precious. Worth fighting for even when life is hard to live. So, I keep pushing through my mountain of shit, turning it into the compost that will be nourishing my growth. Knowing that this too shall pass.

They say time heals,
but every day seems to be getting harder.

November 3rd 2017 at 6am,
you took your final breath.

Living through the challenges of your end of life was hard.
Living through the challenges of Dads end of life was harder.
and now I must confront living life without you both, which is even harder.

They say life goes on,
but it doesn't feel like I'm moving forward yet.
It feels like I'm tredding water,
trying my hardest not to drown.

Although your love still beats in my heart.
Although you still live on in my memories.
Although your energy still flows in spirit,
I’m also left with memories that haunt me.

Images I don’t want to see
Thoughts I don’t want to think
Feelings I don’t want to feel
Regrets I don’t want to have

Now, I’m left to pick up the pieces of my own life, but I no longer know where I belong.
They say home is where the heart is,
but my heart is everywhere.

So, do I belong nowhere?
Is it my fate to drift in life?
Am I destined to wander the world alone?

Nothing is the same.
Everything is different.

I’m no longer the same woman I once was.
Life and death have challenged me.
Love and loss have changed me.

I see things I don’t always want to see.
I know things I don’t always want to know.
I feel things I don’t always want to feel.
And my regrets keep tripping me up.

I’m lost inside of myself.
Stuck in a cycle of negative thoughts.
Fighting battles no one can see.
Trying not to believe the voices.

You’re a failure
You’re a fuck up
You’re a loser
You're crazy
You’re alone

It’s easier to believe these thoughts because

I've failed
I've fucked up
I've lost
I feel crazy
And I am alone

I’m struggling to focus on the process,
without getting lost in the darkness.
Unsure if I can fight my way out,
towards the light.

I’m tired

When we cant find our own words, we can find our truth in song …

If I could face them
If I could make amends with all my shadows
Id bow my head and welcome them
But I feel it burning
Like when the winter wind
Stops my breathing
Are you really gonna love me when Im gone?
I fear you wont
I fear you dont

And it echoes when I breathe
Until all you see is my ghost
Empty vessel, crooked teeth
Wish you could see

And they call me under
And Im shaking like a leaf
And they call me under
And I wither underneath
In this storm

I am a stranger
I am an alien inside a structure
Are you really gonna love me when Im gone?
With all my thoughts
And all my faults
I feel it biting
I feel it break my skin so uninviting
Are you really gonna need me when Im gone?
I fear you wont
I fear you dont

And it echoes when I breathe
Until all you see is my ghost
Empty vessel, crooked teeth
Wish you could see

And they call me under
And Im shaking like a leaf
And they call me under
And I wither underneath
In this storm I feel it

By Of Monsters and Men

My parents are dead,
but I believe in spirit.
I still love them,
and know they’re still loving me.

So …

Why does it hurt to remember them ?
Why does it hurt to think about them ?

If love doesn’t hurt …
then why don’t I feel happy ?

If love doesn’t hurt …
then why does sadness still flow ?

If love doesn’t hurt …
then why do memories haunt me ?

If love doesn’t hurt …
then why do my tears choke me ?

Didn’t I love my parents ?
Didn’t they love me ?
Wasn’t our love unconditional ?
Isn’t it FOREVER and ALWAYS ?

If love doesn’t hurt …
then why do I feel like I’ve lost it ?

I sit with those thoughts for awhile,
then in the silence I hear …

My darling,
Love doesn’t hurt
Loss does

If this is true, then it’s not a lack of love that’s causing my suffering, then love isn’t to blame for my struggles …

I AM

And in that moment
I am empowered

Because to change my experience
I only need to own it

In my grief, I’ve noticed how my heart doesn’t ache because it’s OPEN to feel, without holding onto the emotion. I’ve learned how to flow, which is why I no longer fear my feelings. I surrender to the process, by welcoming my truth to rise and fall. Knowing that I can only RELEASE what I’m willing to fully feel.

Yet, I still struggle ?

Because my struggle is with myself. My thoughts are the cause of my suffering.

Now, I’m learning how to keep an OPEN mind. To think without holding onto the thought. To observe my thinking process, without fearing the irrational and distorted thoughts. To welcome my messy and conflicting truth. Knowing that I can only CHANGE what I’m willing to fully process.

Knowing, when I open my heart and mind, then emotion and thought will flow. And then I can BE who I truly AM without fear, which is a thinking, feeling and living BEing of love and light. Here to share my kinda magic with the world.

Today, I’m having a bed/sofa day because I don’t have the energy to hike, nor the interest to explore. I just needed to be alone with my own thoughts and feelings. To feel my sadness and acknowledge the burden of my worry and fear.

Yes, I’m having a wonderful adventure here in Perth and V gives the best hugs, but no matter where I am or who I’m with, I still want and need time alone. To process my thoughts, release my emotions and balance my energy.

I have no intentions of avoiding myself. So, I’m well aware that I’m still riding waves of grief, reliving difficult memories, and navigating an uncertain future on a road less travelled. And I have no shame in admitting that some days I struggle. Although I share smiley photos of the beautiful places I go to, I’m still processing challenging experiences, feeling emotions as they flow and adjusting to what is.

Truth is, I often break down on my hikes, but I don’t always share the details because most of my tensions, conflicts and challenges involve other people. So I focus on sharing my process rather than the details of my struggles.

Maybe the juicier stuff will be written and shared, as part of my story in the books I plan on writing ? Perhaps it will just fuel the story ?

Everyday another trigger presents itself.

This morning I recieved a message from a friend with good intentions, telling me about a live in job, caring for someone with cancer who is palliative. I don’t think many people realize just how challenging it was to care for our parent’s end of life. Even I wasn’t prepared for the trauma I experienced, which is something I still struggle with. We didn’t just loose our parents to cancer, we granted their last wishes, which was to care for them at home. Yes, it was a privelage but it was the hardest thing we have ever done … and we did it twice 💔💔

That kind of thing changes you, which is why I have less tolerance for some things and more passion for other things. I know that my path is changing, but my direction isn’t yet known.

No matter how strong my faith is, no matter how many times spirit connects with me, no matter how much I reframe things, I still can’t seem to shake myself free from the past. I’m not really OK with this, but it is my truth.

The challenges I’ve confronted over the last 3 years and the experiences I’ve had have changed me. In many ways I’m not the same woman I once was, which influences upon all of my relationships and friendships. In some ways I’m softer and in other ways I’m harder. 

My family and I feel our sadness, but we don’t dwell in our sorrow, because our parents would want us to keep living, but that doesn’t mean we don’t struggle. I can’t speak for everyone, but some days irrational thoughts consume me, challenging memories haunt me and the rise and fall of emotions overwhelm me.

I’m well aware that Anxiety and Depression are common companions of grief, which is why I dive in to explore my thoughts and feelings.

I’ve sat with depression many times, to better understand its presence in my life. It usually shows up when I’ve lost someone or am failing at something. So, I’ve learned to appreciate my need to rest and dive in deeper to my inner most thoughts and feelings. To honour my truth and identify what I’m still holding onto.

But I have a more challenging relationship with anxiety. I don’t really welcome it so warmly because I want to live a life of love, not fear.

My first experience with anxiety was at my Granda’s funeral, back in 2000. This is when I began to suffer from panic attacks, and over the years I began to realize that anxiety was connected to my fears and worrys.

So, again it’s about being honest with myself.

What am I afraid of ?
What am I worrying about ?
What am I holding onto ?

To be honest, at this point in my life, I’m less afraid of being alone and more afraid of not being true to myself. I’m worried about John’s surgery on Friday and about our kids. I’m holding onto the belief that we can be friends with an ex. Although we might be friendly, I’m realizing that I’ve lost the friendship I had with the men I was once in relationship with.

I notice how I feel more anxious whenever I’m feeling more vulnerable …

Vulnerability IS speaking our truth with honesty, which exposes us to the possibility of being criticized, judged, misunderstood and rejected.

Yup, the more honestly I express myself, the more challenging my interactions become. No matter how much I tell myself, that someone else’s choices has nothing to do with me, it still doesn’t stop my feelings from being hurt.

I notice how my vulnerability heightens my sensitivity, which then triggers my anxiety.

Anxiety has many faces …

Sometimes I articulate my anxiety with words
Sometimes I overreact, withdraw or shut down
Sometimes I drown it with booze to numb it
Sometimes I soothe it with food to comfort it
Sometimes I walk or hike alone with it

Today, I watched a movie “Into the Wild” which both inspired and triggered me. So, I had a long hot shower and released my tears. Then I wrote this, which I decided to share with you. And now I’m gonna pour myself a big glass of wine, prepare myself a plate of yummys and watch an uplifting movie, so I won’t be a miserable cow when V gets home from work.

Yup, I still have my sense of humour

Today, I’m thinking about those who are drowning and struggling to stay afloat. Those who are sitting in dark spaces feeling lost and alone. Those who are suffering from their loss. Those who are confronted with challenges and facing obstacles. Those who are living the fear in their hearts. Those who have lost all hope.

I want you to know that I see YOU ❤

Sometimes I’m tempted to close my facebook account. Sometimes I need to stay open and connect with you, but I want to shut down and disconnect. Sometimes the oversharer can’t fully express what’s really on her mind and in her heart. Sometimes I feel like I’m failing in life. Sometimes I feel so fucking lost inside of myself. Sometimes I want to be seen and need to be found. Sometimes I feel so very alone with my struggles. Sometimes I regret looking back into the past because it hurts so damn much. Sometimes I’m scared to look too far into the future because I’m afraid of what could happen. Sometimes the present doesn’t feel like a gift. Sometimes I can’t look away from the suffering in the world because I’m suffering too. Sometimes I’m lost in the sorrows of life. Sometimes I don’t want to see how happy everyone else is or how well they are doing. Sometimes I struggle to celebrate life because I’m overwhelmed and unimpressed with living.

Sometimes I wonder what’s the fucking point?

Fortunately these are only my sometimes.

On the flip side …

I LOVE life. ALL of it, even the struggles. I know how my thoughts can become distorted and irrational, so I thank fuck for my insight. I’m also grateful for the wonderfuls, that prevent me from drowning in my misery. Yup, shit sure does happen, but our self pity only digs a much bigger pit that we can’t get out of. Learning to observe our thoughts and emotions without attaching to them, is a habit worth cultivating.

But it does make me wonder …

How many other people are sharing the smile, that masks their struggles? How many others are faking it till they make it? How many others aren’t talking openly about their “sometimes.”

Sometimes I’m not OK … and that’s OK ❤

Although I’m blessed with love, I still feel the sting of disappointment when a relationship or a friendship doesn’t flow as I had hoped.

Although I believe in seasons, reasons and lifetimes, I still feel the pain of a lesson learned

Although I’m grateful for the time I had with my parents and my friend, I still feel the ache in my heart from the devastation of my loss.

Although I will cherish the many precious memories we made together, I still feel gutted that our time was cut short because there was still so much that I, they and we wanted to do.

Although I believe that life’s too complicated to just end, I still feel angry that my parents and friend had to go through what they did. And I still struggle with those not so great memories.

Although my faith is strong, I still feel kinda lost without my parents and I miss my friend.

Sometimes I just have to be honest with myself

Everyday my facebook memories take me back   to past experiences. An accumulation of the good and the bad times that is my life. To the ups and downs that is my story. Although I’ve endured many heart breaking losses over the years, the hardest by far is our parents cancer diagnosis, and the end of life challenges that my sisters and I confronted. To be honest I relive those moments most days, so don’t need the reminder. As the memories pop up it’s like a count down to your worst nightmare. Each day taking us closer to the worst times of our life.

Why must we relive those shitful moments?
Why must we grieve over and over again?
Why must we feel our pain with such intensity?
Why must we remember things so vividly?
Why must we be reminded what we once had?
Why must we keep thinking about the loss?

No matter what we do or how we think, there’s no denying this truth. And why would we? It’s part of our story and although our past doesn’t define us, it definitely does shape us into the person we are today. So, I accept the memories as they resurface, observe the thought when it pops into my mind and I allow the emotions to rise and fall. Knowing that this too shall pass.

Everyday I’m triggered by something that reminds me, that I am healing. So I try my best to be as honest as I can in my interactions.

Everyday there’s another tension, conflict or concern that challenges me. So, I remind myself that life itself is a wonderful adventure.

As I accept and share my “sometimes” I also embrace my shadow. Shining a light onto the vulnerable parts of myself that I usually hide so well. Knowing that true beauty comes from the heart of who we are, and I want to love it all.

I no longer need to hide my flaws, failures and faults. Because I’m not only healing my own personal woundings, I’m learning how to love and appreciate our past. Every uncomfortable memory that has challenged me, is being seen and felt for what it truly is. So that every moment can be lived as fully as it can be.

I’m learning that …

Healing is balancing our own energy, which is influenced by how we think and feel about ourselves, which is influenced by our past.

As I share my process, I want to lean into my inner tensions with a little more honesty ❤

This FULL MOON in Pisces has been difficult for many of us, for different reasons …

No doubt, some of you are assuming I’m riding waves of grief and my struggle is with LOSS.

But GRIEF isn’t my only fight …

My struggle is with LIFE and my battle is with the PAST and the hold it has on me. My mind has been racing out of control this morning. I’m recognizing patterns and cycles. Feeling a little confused and conflicted, which is why I’m better off alone. Because whenever I do share, I seem to feel so very misunderstood. I need something but I don’t really know what the fuck it is. I’m feeling so many things at once. I need someone to help me make sense of all this, but I know that someone is ME.

Sometimes it seriously feels like I’m literally going out of my mind. I wish the monestary would reply, God knows I need it. Either that or a fucking straight jacket cos my mind’s racing with all kindsa stuff. I never cope well with massive downloads of information all at once. Yet when it comes, it always seems to come so fast and so much of it at once. I suppose that’s because I keep insisting on pushing my limits.

Anyhoo …

I’ve had a rough few days, so thought I’d see what the star gazers are sharing in their news feeds. After reading Tanishka’s Full Moon in Pisces post, maybe I “shudda” read it earlier, to avoid the misery and despair I suffered? Then again, perhaps I wouldn’t have felt the depths of those things if I had read it? Maybe I’m reading it at the right time because everything is as it should BE?

These last few days, I’ve been compelled to dive IN to my Mam’s thoughts and feelings. I’ve read journal after journal. Reliving the past and some not so good memories from Mam’s perspective. At times it kinda felt like a trainwreck I just couldn’t look away from.

As if that hasn’t been challenging enough in itself, I also recieved more bad news. Ironically it involves a male Piscean from my past, present and future (The Father of my kids).

I’m learning more about how the past has and does influence what’s happening NOW, and how the present impacts on what will and can happen in the future. This stuff matters to me because I care about how MY actions, both conscious and unconscious influences others. Specifically MY cubs and our future generations.

     PAST  🔁 PRESENT 🔁 FUTURE

This is the bridge that creates a connection in my mind, to drift between a variety of realities. To what was, what IS and what could BE.

So, what is the lesson of Pisces?

“It’s the most sensitive of all the signs, so it’s an energy that will heighten our sensitivities. It will increase our awareness of what needs to be healed in our psyche. When operating in shadow (unconscious) we drink, we seek to escape uncertainty through co-dependancy, we seek to escape from reality with fantasy and meditation. But when we operate consciously, then we will seek to heal our core wound, like the parable of The Fisher King”

Fuck !!!!

I failed to hear the King Fishers message the other day at the mountain. I failed to honour my own thoughts and feelings this full moon, by focusing on Mam’s instead. I failed to respond consciuosly because I drank far too much whiskey. And I failed to learn another fucking lesson … yet I don’t feel like a failure.

Why ???

Because there is NO right or wrong choice. We learn from ALL of our experiences. Each choice increasing our awareness of self and other.

This FULL MOON I was “taken deep into the murky depths of old past pain” (both my own and my Mothers). I consciously dove in to the messiness of Mam’s mind and willingly felt the heaviness of her heart. And I unconsciously responded in shadow, which is a pattern and cycle I’m ready, willing and able to SEE and therefore RELEASE, with the support of the divine energy of this Piscean FULL MOON.

As I read through Tanishka’s post, I got goosy bumps when I reached the last paragraph …

” Like the Frog Prince who goes to the bottom of the pond to retrieve the golden sphere of light and break the enchantment, he is unlovable. If we don’t believe we are loveable at the deepest level (because we haven’t faced the one who cast the spell) we won’t escape rejection; Or other tales of distorted perception like The Ugly Duckling or The Lion who Thought he was a Lamb that echoes rejection of the divine self who’s not truly seen and understood by those in their tribe of origin. These illustrate the futility of trying to be seen and understood by those unwilling to look within and see their greatness by exploring what makes them unique. Instead, they scapegoat those who are, mocking that which they don’t understand ”

A frog leaped across the fence the other night. I took a photo. Although I didn’t know what, I knew it was significant because he/she was sitting above the frog statue Mam bought me.

Perhaps I’m not so fucking crazy afterall 🤔