Monthly Archives: May 2016

Through the Looking Glass

Everything is different. I’m sitting in the same chair in the morning, with the dog looking outside to a new world, the cat purring a symphony of sounds beside me.

As I sit here, I realize everything has changed, part of the change that has been taking place over time with me; today I am different, I feel different. It’s the only word I feel can express it.

I am calm, more relaxed and am looking at my home as if I saw if for the first time, as if I saw the story it would unravel through the lens of a camera. Each room, placement of furniture, the disaster decorating I tried that was unfulfilling, okay downright ugly would be a better term. I was learning my sense of style.

One of the talks I remind our team is to take a picture and look at it, how you see it, is how the guests see it. I have been doing this in work and home to really see what others see. This way I can deal with the ego kicking in that I did a great job or the self critic that it was horrible, the worst I have ever completed, somehow he always seems to remind me it’s worthless, I am worthless, but I will disagree with him.

Today as I took a vacation day, my plan is to go around my house and take pictures, start there and then work out to the yard, my work, the community to see what it was that I saw that has kept me here for so long. Next weekend is a trip to the farm, a location I have not been for quite a while as it means dealing with some sad memories; but I feel I can do it at this time.

I gave my grandson a few books that were mine as a child and my daughters. This morning I see the one book my daughter could not part with, it was mine and I decide I need to re-read it. Lost in the pages of the Carebear book I remember the day it was gifted to me from a childhood friend.

It was always so special as he put so much care into what he would buy me as a birthday gift. I was always truly grateful and had a hard time expressing it as the emotion took over, he would give me birthday gifts when I was not to have any. Items that I would hang on to forever and still have all of them; I snuggle in and read Sweet Dreams for Sally. Now when I was younger I always had a fear of the dark.

We had a large farmhouse and I would be covered in bruises from falling on the stairs as I was trying to go so fast before the basement monster got me; upstairs was safe.  I read this book over and over while snuggled up to my Carebear at night, listening to the basement monster making sounds, opening doors looking for me. The anxiety was there in my early years.

The story feels the same for me now, but this time the dark is the PTSD, who knew I would still find use for it in my forties; this may become my bedtime story again. I will use the excuse that I am reading to the dog and see if Sally may help the days my brain is in a recovery mode, needing the fluffy clouds of the magical land to relax and absorb all that is undesirable.

If I could only take a picture of the inside, the true feelings of me. This I could get into, really dissect it and see where do I need the most amount of work? Just because I can add lipstick to venture out doesn’t erase the turmoil or drama inside. So how to change it?

I have been writing, painting, journalling, going to therapy, cooking, drinking it away, then yesterday as we are driving I question Mr. Jones; is our only purpose in life to be sad, depressed, mad, going through our days and then boom we have a highlight and that is what we use to go on and then we just keep continuing the same path?  Is that what the life purpose is all about or is there some cosmic reason for our real existence?

Some days I see our humanity as a plaque on the beautiful earth as I see the killing, the wars, the materialistic consumption attitudes to be just like that girl who someone said she was all that. Who determined she was?

What has she done to better humanity? Was it is she showed us how to create better cleavage, is that a highlight or did she show compassion for children and assist in building up villages, building people up emotionally, giving encouragement and kind words?

This time of searching right now seems to have unleashed what maybe I see through the looking glass, but the one that is deep within us. The one that is realizing there is so much more of us to offer to each other. The one that is working on dissecting the soul, figuring out who really am I and what is my purpose in this planet?

Just saying I do make a great sangria, but thinking there is more to me than that. What am I offering of myself to others? What can I offer of myself to others, or have I been doing it and not realizing it?


This quote resonated with me on a true depiction on maybe where my thoughts take me today, and truly I loved the colouring of such life where what we picture is darkness.

Love always, the Monday morning, dissecting, Woman in Process


Fear Whispers

The dog sits on her bench looking out the window like a child wondering when the rain will stop so she can play. It is quite cute and us playing ball in the garage does not amuse her that long.

The day is one of celebration, it’s Mr. Jones birthday and two of the daughters will be here for a family dinner, some laughs and of course dessert. We spend a quiet day just being with each other and talking of our future.

You see; I applied for a job, a long ways from home. I was being brave, yet every muscle in my body is doing the tango as I deal with the thoughts that transpire, the feelings of recklessness and abandonment.

Just about twenty years have been spent in my home and we have decided regardless if we move we need to start downsizing and getting rid of items no longer needed. I cannot see the house full of people anymore for Christmas gatherings as everyone are working on building their lives. I understand, we were there at one time too.

Family gatherings at the farm became less frequent and eventually not everyone was together at the same time. We only had to share ourselves a bit with in laws as Mr. Jones mum was only around for a bit of our time together.

Children and a blended family took precedent as to where we could be and when. We built years of memories, arguments, and laughter in this small house with the red shed. I am struggling now on how I would feel to say goodbye to it.

I know I am not one who really likes too much change. I like small things, an occasional job every twenty years and spend more time changing the house, the decor, my closet. Those are items I can identify with and feel comfortable with.

I really stepped out of my comfort zone and I do not know any answers. I feel this one will play out with my intuition and am challenged by one large factor. How do I be away from Mr. Jones for a long time?

When the children were little Mr. Jones was on the road for weeks at a time and once he got home our world felt stronger; supported. I would be doing this on my own and no one in my corner, he knew I was home then dealing with Christmas concerts, birthday presents, piano lessons and the home; he was supported.

Tonight as I am cooking, the house is a bustle and everyone is enjoying their time together. I see it all, years of memories; the kitchen baking fights, the ventures outside to play, the chalk writing on the driveway, the dress up games and Barbie world.

I struggle with that, as we are a team, united; yes the children are grown, we do have the pup to take care of and I still love my home. I wonder how many people can say that? I do love who I work for but feel I need a change to assist me with my overall health.

The feelings of anxiety sometimes takes over, I am picturing myself, hyperventilating in a room, alone, feeling the weight of the world. I have decided to feel my way through this one and see what transpires.

I had mentioned to Mr. Jones that I could become a stay at home mum for our dog as that makes me quite happy, looking after the home, cooking and being. I still had some books to finish sitting on the night stand, but unfortunately unless I win the lottery to pay for my dogs style of living, I will be heading back to work.

The one best thing that comes out of this regardless of the ending is I was brave, and I realize that I was worthy. That I think could always be the lesson anyway I look at it. In the mean time, I am going to push everything away from me so that stress does not keep adding to the weighted shoulders I currently have.

I know one day either Mr. Jones or myself will be alone, the question is if we have a choice, should we miss out on time with each other?

I had heard one item today that has stuck with me steady and that was to listen to the whispers, to hear them as our true calling may not be screaming at us.

Dear whispers, I am listening.


Love always, the patient, scared out of her mind, whisper listening, Woman in Process


Dandelions are Sleeping

You know the moment when you hit the boredom feeling that you cannot get up and do much else besides just sitting around. Would I love to run, yes, would I love to get out of the house, yes, but reality is, I am here for the weekend to just be, my soul requires it.

I ponder about reading but am limited in my sight. I ponder of the endless to do list and realize it’s okay, it won’t go anywhere, and I ponder on a future where I do not have to limit myself or feel guilty.

It is early and I struggled to sleep last night as the pup chose the floor area over the bed; she must be too warm but without her I cannot sleep. I have weird dreams, nightmares and hear the sounds and bumps of the house in the night and the neighbourhood.

Finally around three I begged her to come sleep with me; up she comes and snuggles onto the pillow beside me, I lay my head on her and am out. How did I become so attached? I do not want to go anywhere without her, as I feel confident and comfort with her. She has become my security blanket.

We sleep for the three hours and as I do not need to be awake for work hours, my body gets me up anyways. I am still tired and the house feels cool, up we go to start her day outside and then crawl into the recliners for our morning nap and maybe a little zen time watching life through the picture windows. She is snoring in minutes, her mediation excels on mine.

She is growing so fast and find she is exhausted in no time. While in the morning Mr. Jones says you can just see her grow day by day; her growth cycle is amazing and she still is holding on to the wrinkles around her smushy face.

Her calmness gives me a comfort, her love makes my heart explode and you can see how much she loves Mr. Jones and he her as he puts so much effort into her meals. She projects love all around her. It’s a word I have been teaching her so she can understand that moment of content, followed by a hug and a kiss.

As the sun has decided to play today we ventured on roadtrip adventure, headed west out of the city bypassing the potholes and just drove; drove until we hit all the little towns with their quaint and uniqueness touring them one by one. There we found a park and stopped to let the pup out and enjoy the grass that is cool, still covered in dew.

She lays calm, relaxed and smelling the dandelions one by one. I am in awe of her moment of peacefulness and am longing to have the same in my life. The roller coaster has hit the top and my body is bracing itself for the plunge.

I consider the screams that if I let out on a regular basis could offset that feeling and I laugh at myself; well for sure everyone will think I am crazier than I am.

I get down closer to her and as I ruffle her fur and sing the dandelion song, she takes me to a world of endless possibilities, calmness; a serene feeling as if I am sitting beside the trickling water listening to it and feeling the emotions and stress leave the body and drift down the stream; away, away from me, absolute solitude.

I stay there as long as possible, before the world comes rushing back and we decide to continue on the next adventure. I am working through what my life adventure looks like and I believe it is time to pull my vision boards out and see where I am. It has been just about six months; self exploration required.

Now I ask myself what are my dreams, has anything changed and how soon till I pack my bags and am ready for the mountains? I would tell you immediately. I am inspired by her understanding the dandelion. To us it is labelled as a weed, to her it was a flower; a bright yellow bouquet open for the day enjoying the rays of the sun.

I believe I need to look at all opportunities again in life and review those. I may have labelled them as weeds without paying true attention. They could be the actual bouquet welcoming you to opportunity. My eyes are open and I feel ready. I am grateful for even the hint of some beautiful flowers and some beautiful weeds, especially if my dog is enjoying the time with them and me.

The photo is my baby enjoying; after the evening of adventures, frolicks and some meal sharing; we settled in and watched the dandelions tell us it was time for them to retire for the evening and would see us in the morning.


“Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them.” A.A Milne

Love always the weed loving, solitude searching, Woman in Process

Snow & Deceit

Trees are heavy from the weight they are holding as the snow keeps coming down. Surprising? Snow in May; not the first time. The sky is dark but the ground is singing its praises as it soaks up the moisture, the grass greener, the flowers still blooming.

It is fun Friday as we like to call it and I sit on the edge of my bed with a teetering mind for the day. It’s played out and I feel as the weather has added some snow load on me; the cold feeling of wanting to bury myself back under my covers and built a fort like when I was a kid.

Hmmm, I seem to recall also building those of snow but prefer the warmer of the two. As I contemplate my day, I have already seen my temper fly a bit, it comes with being over tired, so I make note of it. Pull the dog up and snuggle her for a few moments, she has now decided to, that maybe my idea of the bed is pretty good.

I am sure that will change again once I get moving around the house, but a snoring dog beside me is wonderful. Curled into a little ball, her face soft as I watch her.

At work my stomach is still uneasy and I am trusting my instincts as I feel something brewing. Once the call hits, everything becomes clear and I knew I was right to trust it. I am infuriated and now know why my temper was running away from me this morning.

There is nothing to change this cycle expect to head straight through it at full speed; I cover myself with my armour and tissue and tell myself I can get through anything after what I have been dealing with, it will just take time.

I make it home and sit in my zombie position as my nerves have completely wrecked havoc on my body, crawl into bed early and sleep.

When I was younger I learned how to read Russian Tarrot cards; one time I pulled a card and it told me that someone was being false and kind to my face but they were creating damage in the background, they were a fox; sly, sleazy and had their own motive.

That card made me pay extra attention and when faced to face with the person my guts kicked me, I thought I was about to faint. Sure enough it was right, that feeling and that evening my daughter shared a very sad and tragic event.

Our family did everything we could at that time to help our daughter and us heal but I truly realized at that moment how a parent could do whatever they had to for their child. She was five, so adorable and kind and that day marked a spot in my head on how I couldn’t protect her all the time, that really scared me.

I believe I got even more protective after and I made sure if something ever unsettled me with her and an environment I would make an excuse and not let her go, I would change the plan, the location or I would be in attendance.

I trusted someone at the time as a babysitter who became my best friend, her daughter, my girl’s best friend, her husband became friends with mine; her teenage son was the fox. That day we lost a lot and I thank god it didn’t go to where it could have but I still didn’t let it go. I fought hard for a year, until a judge finally made sure it was dealt with properly, not swept under a rug.

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about it and could I have protected her better? I hope for his sake, I never see his face ever again, as there is so much rage built up inside me I do not know how I would respond.

I am still working on healing of this for myself, as I needed to be the counsellor in between sessions for my girl and her therapist.

One day many years later we were at the golf course and I begin talking to a lady, she talks to my daughter and she answers as if she knows her. We walk away and she asks who was that mama? That day I knew she did her job well; she didn’t recognize her therapist from when she was young.

Her self esteem had regrown, her independence was back, she had blossomed and our relationship became even closer throughout the years. I stressed that you can ask me anything; and she did and I would answer all her questions. There was no being shy or giving her the answer I heard; we don’t talk about that.

Why not? If no one talks about sensitive subjects, no one knows the answer, no one knows the rights and wrongs, no one knows what to do. We are all blind zombies in life. I will continue to ask if I don’t know, I will continue to fight, I will continue.

My girl is turning 21 this year and to see who and what she has become is inspiring and very emotional for me. She always writes me a beautiful note on how I was her inspiration, yet she was mine.

One I took very seriously as it was my job to mentor her to become what she is, to teach her everything about life from painting a wall to balancing a check book, to be prepared more than I was for what life could throw at you.

I think I may have done okay, and am always excited to see her next adventures. The beautiful thing, is she has a co-captain who embraces the adventures with her. I am grateful for that, but the best adventure I ever had was her.



Love always the Sunday therapy, sitting on the deck, working on my life, Woman in Process

I Love Myself Today

Bif!! I need to say thank you! This song has become my theme song to my life, and I need to remind myself, hey I love myself today! As we are rocking out to it prior to the event I am in the zone and prepping myself for an adventure like no other.

I feel like the heavy weight (no pun intended) champion, with their gloves knocking on each other, the look of intensity in their eyes, their goal in mind. Ready to fight with everything they have.

My emotions raw and invested into the air, people in shock, others in tears, and me, tissue in hand and I am letting it all go. Now ask me, do I remember it all, not really; feels as if it’s an illusion and I remember the breath at the end and the scotch on the beginning to calm my nerves.

My world was on complete display tonight and I am now feeling pretty good with that if it helps someone else; that is the ultimate goal.

After tonight’s talk, women were coming up in tears telling me thank you, I have given them permission to feel the way I do and that its okay they are dealing with this, I am in absolute shock. Women who I idolize and had no idea are dealing with the same thing, the hold on their throat, the paralyzingly fear.

Today we start a new revolution that it’s okay for us to be like this, we do not need perfectionism, we need to be ourselves however that is. Bring out the gifts and the qualities we like and that we feel great about. The catch is most of us have these qualities that are admired by others and we have no idea.

Lets get it started, compliment each other, put your heart on your sleeve, invest in your soul by sharing. We need to be there for each other.

Life has scarred each of us in ways that are imaginable, but we only know that by the sorrow, the despair and the happiness that we have experienced it’s yin and yang.

So tonight my two middle fingers are up and I am saying I love myself today! I will love myself tomorrow, bring it on!

To my self critic, I have some choice words for you and in my second breath, are the words watch me!

Tonight, no quotes love yourself today,love always the Woman in Process!😘


Lounge Singer

A busy and hectic day physically, with a full schedule and yet time didn’t get away from me. It’s still early but after my last night of half sleeping and adjusting to the pup sleeping with an open door on her kennel as she didn’t want to snuggle in bed (I am so shocked too). I am working on getting the zoomies out of her, running  her around the yard, frisbee after frisbee.

She has played hard, tripped over those giant mitts of hers and on the pink flamingo and has clumsily run into the house furnishings all evening; she is definitely tired. It was her first visit to the puppy parlour today and was feeling pretty mighty after they shined her up; she was proud of herself and was enjoying showing it off to the team when I took her to work.

I am truly blessed, being able to take her to work each day and for her to experience so many people. As guests check in I do get asked if she is our guard dog; as she is laying sprawled out on the floor; nope, she is just here for loves, my loves not to mention the mauling she gets from the kids, the adults and even picked up by some of the guys to snuggle. Just because they are big, means nothing; they are all cupcakes and love pets.

She is restless, so over tired and too stimulated; it seems to be hard for her to settle down.  I begin to sing, not well mind you. I have a Beetles tune I have adapted to her and she seems to enjoy it; not to mention Kasarasara all adapted to the advice that a mama would give you.

I am trying to do my best to give her the lounge singer experience and only received a few bites while trying my renditions; not sure if those were a good job bite or mama stop.

She finally starts to relax and it gives me the opportunity for her puppy massage; some toe work, face massage, and down her back to her back to her tail with all her loose skin. Success! She is snoring in minutes, and is now taking up the whole end of the bed, sprawled out like a beached whale.

I wonder how many other people adapt songs to their pets? I can only imagine! We even had a small duet between her and the cat briefly; then he decided he was too cool for that and wasn’t part of the gang. He decided he preferred the laid back and causal atmosphere and snuggled up on the pillow to listen to the show.

The morning has brought some well needed rain and she stands in it looking up. Where is this coming from? Into the dirt, and under the trees she leaps as she continues her search till she is muddy and soaked, ready for the morning comforts of coffee and the time to dry off.

Today feels normal, and I am grateful for that. I was beginning to deal with chest pains again brought on by a high level of stress. I am working on eliminating it, so it does not cause me damage.

The morning of sitting in the comforts of my feathery bed with my coffee looking out the window to the greens ape of the yard, watching the rain drops, feels so cleansing. Kind of feels like the big guy is dropping all of the tears we have all been crying for a while; giving us a fresh start and new growth.

It feels as though it is a sign I was waiting for; one showing me that life is really beginning to grow, from the ashes can sprout new opportunities, new life, new dreams.

Today begins the next step of my journey or in my case maybe the little steps have been coming all alone and today is a milestone.  I guess I will see what takes place and where my yellow brick road takes me, my galoshes are on.


I wish you all a rainy, puddle jumping, lounge crooning kind of day, love the Woman in Process







Dance of the Butterfly

It is quite warm out, mid afternoon and the pup and I head for an adventure on our walk. I need to clear my head as I have been working on a talk for next week and that means crying since noon.

My head is thumping and I am trying to put together the past and the current in a positive note; so much has changed and where do I begin.

Pup is running up the hill with her tongue hanging out as she is acting as if she is already played out; she had been walking for maybe ten minutes. Her dramatics makes me laugh.

We get to the top of the hill around the bend and there is her bench; one she has stopped at only twice before and it is now tradition. She decides we are sitting down no matter what and enjoys watching others pass us by.

She is making me “be” my word from the beginning of the year. I find lately I am anxious, feel as if I am rushing, my be time is either limited or my energy blocked.  It could be the anxiety of next week catching up with me. I have put it off as I needed to process so much and review, plus I work better under pressure after everything has written itself in my head.

I feel winded, but also feel hopeful for my future. We continue to walk till she is getting tired (her pretending to drag herself till I pick her up briefly) and we are back at her resting place; top of the hill, the yellow field behind us and absolute silence. Three beautiful butterflies begin their dance around us; one in a blue, yellow and black and a bright orange.

Flittering from one area to another and dancing in front of her nose. We stand in awe both of us; just waiting. It was quiet and peaceful at that moment. It was surprising to me as she seems to want to bite everything so she knows what it is. She didn’t this time, she just watched, mesmerized.

Time passed slowly and then they decided to flutter away down the path below us to another adventure and we resumed back to our walk. Those absolute moments of awe, gratefulness and beauty are what I keep searching for. It feels as if everything stops for a moment and I feel balanced, and relieved.

This mornings trail walks did the same for me, the smells of the forest, the crunching of the leaves and the amazing tunes the crow was making. I appreciated each gift this morning, this weekend and found it to be energizing. Followed with some digging in the dirt gardening and grounding of my spirit.

I have faith that my flow and chakras are relaligned and I can continue my journey; maybe I won’t pack so much as I did this morning. Mr. Jones reminds me as I am swinging my backpack on, we are only going three kms as the dog cannot do any more.

I like to be prepared (insert the be prepared song from hoodwinked here). She may get hungry, I need a drink and you never know when you want to just sit down on your blanket and have a bite to eat. There is always time to stop for a moment, or two and just  “Be”.

“Your wings already exist, all you have to do is fly.” Unknown

Love always the fluttering butterfly, grounded, Woman in Process








Mouse Not Mickey

I talk about living and pain in so many of the posts, and today instead of an emotional roller coaster I thought I would share a silly story; truly embarrassing.

Snuggled into my bed, totally out, I am woken up with a desperate cry; an endless raaaar sound. Over and over the cat is desperately trying to wake me up in the room. I am cozy and not willing to wake up.

I immediately tell him to be quiet and get up here and then realize that may not be a good idea. The flashlight on the phone is clicked on and with no glasses I am squinting to see in the room on the floor. There laid out as a special present to me, a mouse. Proud he was, his raaaar of sheer look at me and look what I brought you mama!

I try my best to contain myself from squealing as I had heard to praise your mouser to not hurt their feelings. Mr. Jones wakes up, the cat has a friend with him I say and I need help. Groggily he heads to deal with the situation.

He bends down to pick it up with his rag and up the mouse runs. He jumps, I scream, holding the pup as I’m like nooooooo! He swears.

Loose in the room and a cat pinballing off every spot I am in a war zone and freaking. Mr. Jones tells me to go sleep in the chair in the living room till he deals with it, and off I go, not trying to get off my bed or touch the floor.  (The spare room was just taken apart that afternoon for us to install a new bed frame and complete some organizing.

After what seemed like forever I am exhausted; so tired I could cry and now I am in my mad phase. Mr. Jones please get me a broom for armour, I say, and up I go on the furniture as we flush him out. The cat goes catatonic, and just sits there,  I am satisfied; ok not really, that I may get some rest.

All night in my head I hear sounds, and realize it’s the dog making them. I am so tired and look like I have walked in from a battle zone.

At one point I hear the cat crying and the dog loses it, barks, tells him to shut up and then silence.

It is time to get up and the pup heads downstairs, I scream there laid out for Mr. Jones in his path to the facilities the cat’s gift. I hear him come running.

I heard all day from people you look tired? Do I? How do you tell that story? They assumed it was my MS, except I had to share the chuckle with a few close friends.

An old house and sometimes we have an adventure when the weather changes. I am grateful for my fur baby ready to do his duty and my other fur baby for protecting me as I snuggle up to her at night, so I can try and rest.

I am hoping tonight is uneventful and will be prepared. I ensured I bought my body armour on the way home; new broom and dustpan. In the words of Duke, “Come get some!”

I hope that put a smile on your face. As I write this on the deck laughing, enjoying my beer; the dog goes from digging the potatoes out that I had planted, to running around with a pink flamingo in her mouth. Maybe I should switch to a Chianti.

I decide it’s too chilly it is time to go in; the door is locked. I knock and knock and thank goodness I had my phone and call Mr. Jones. He claims he has accidentally locked me out in the backyard; as he laughs. Hmmm, I feel a prank coming on for pay back soon! Insert my minical laugh here!!

Dear Mr. Mouse

We would like to apologize for the untimely event that took place. I do regret it as we love all animals, I just prefer we respect our boundaries of my home. This is my job and I apologize.


Mr. Cat

Love always the mouse hunting, broom yielding, Woman in Process


The Day After

I’m up and then down. My yo-yo of a body deciding if it can function but I am physically exhausted and have now decided I need to keep myself free the next day after a race for recovery.

As I lay in my bed, my brain is even too tired to tell me the endless lists of items it feels I should be doing, instead of what I am; nothing, nada, zip, zero.

Okay, I did do one item, I ate a homemade cookie in my bed. I was too tired to go out into the other room and thought what the hell! The dog is snoring beside me and she is lifeless today. I am pretty sure she thinks she ran the race because she has nothing left to give.

You know you are tired when you are chewing a piece of cardboard and fall asleep with it still in the side of your mouth, at least I didn’t fall asleep with my cookie like that.

I do feel different today, kind of like I have kick started my therapy and am changing directions. I have been in what I call a plateau stage. I haven’t moved forward in my eyes, but I haven’t fallen back too bad as well. I am just staying at a consistent weight; referring to the weight of my mind.

This past week there has been an emphasis on mental health in our community, it has put a few thoughts into my head for my talk later this month. I am working through how I lay my cards out and feel like in some ways I am opening the skeletons of my closet.

I finally get an opportunity to head to the painting room, dog in tow. Up on the bed she goes to play with her toys, hopefully not disturbing the sleeping kitty who is snuggled up in the pillow. Note to self, I need to complete a major bed wash to ditch his furry white hair.

Anyways, I pull out a black canvas and not sure what is planning on coming out. Abstract? Photo? There are tons of paints laying on the floor around my working area. I pull out a magenta acrylic paint and write the word “Life” in the centre of my canvas in my calligraphy writing.

Life? I sit and listen to my music, each word and think about what the word means to me? My thoughts start pouring out in big teardrops, each one running down my cheeks. I do not wipe them away I keep painting.

Everything is releasing. More words and abstracts begin to take shape. I sit contemplating each of them, thinking of my gratefulness that I still have life.

I can choose. I can embrace. I can love and I can be brave. The colours of each of them symbolizing my emotion, blues, red, orange. The blackness of the background is my demons but more colour is being embraced, they are beginning to take shape, take a new form, reminding me that there is more.

I paint till my eyes are tired and decide I need to take a walk in the cold rain with my dog; I need to see the greenery, smell the rain. As we walk I work on the word touch with her as we stand at a beautiful purple lilac bush. I’m trying to teach her to touch; to smell, not just to eat but to try and see the beauty of what I see in another way.

She smothers her nose into the lilacs for a big smell, and a small nibble; I laugh, then on to the next tree and bush for some more smelling. We talk with a neighbor we have not seen in ages wondering if I had moved. We welcome some pats on the pup’s head as she gets to know everyone and meet more pups walking in the area. I feel better, life is better.

Life is changing and it feels as if I am in the metamorphosis stage right now. I am curious what that means when I reach the other side.

Mr. Jones shared a quote for me that he was going to give to me the evening of my talk.

“Speak the truth, even if your voice shakes.”

My voice shakes now just thinking of how I am going to let the words escape, the feeling, the burden it is on me, the joy I am finding by finding me again. I hope that someone finds that evening beneficial to them.

Love always the magenta painting, life living, Woman in Process






5 Km Paved Road

I wait in line, there is probably twenty people ahead of me each one waiting to get their bib with their running number of it; from walking to 10km runs and I believe a 16 as well.

In January when I spent time journalling with my fellow java buddies, I decided I was starting back small and running a 5km race in spring.

The spring hit and then my destiny of the pup arrived and as she is growing and starting to really become more efficient on her own, I decided I should probably do my run; something for me.

As I stand in the line I am weaker today, not physically, but in the sense I am trying to hide myself. I just want to get in and out, and try to mentally prepare myself for the number of people.

The anxiety is already hitting some and I feel just scared, scared of being in a crowd, scared of running with others, scared of not having my security blanket, which is my pup.

Now ask me have I had much training lately? Not a lot, mind you I have been chasing after a young pup and that in itself of dodging baby teeth, trying to save my bras from becoming her next chew toy and the constant running back and forth in playtime has assisted me.

The walks we start turning into runs in the hills have been great and I am looking forward to when she has the stamina for us to run for a little longer at a time; but I will just enjoy the time I am in, as she is growing so fast and people are shocked when I say she is fifteen weeks old.

I spent some time watching each of the people in the line up and looking at all of their bodies. I gave my team this speech the other day on how we are all so unique by each of the differences in size to enable us to see everything that much different. It enables us to all have a different vision and outlook. How many times can I  say different?

There are tall ones, short ones, stalky build, old, young, an endless variation of buffet of people. Each with just the desire to run and walk, to improve their health. When I started running again years ago…, my daughter told me people really don’t like it mum they would just like to eat their gourmet foods and have their wine. Amen! People after my own heart.

So I am curious, is there a run that can encompass all of that? A run, some scenery, some cheese, a little wine, or a lot depending on the day. This requires some review and I believe I may need to have wine to get into it all.

It rained some last night and it has a nice cool breeze for this morning. I will begin to prep myself soon to head over to the race area. I keep thinking of new starts.

I decided last night you wanted to do these races, just do it. Online I go and sign up for the next one end of the month and a 10km in September. I figured if I made the commitment this far out there is no excuse for me.

The wind is bustling and I am pretty sure I saw Pooh and Piglet blowing away! The morning wait of everyone to arrive, hustled to your spots and all of sudden they are like go! What! I’m not ready, I think. Yup, don’t think I ever would be.

Those that are running the 16km are in front and from there back, each section huddled together. Some biting to get going, kind of like the Kentucky Derby of running. It takes about fifteen minutes for my body to stop screaming at me and my mind yelling obscenities wondering what the hell I am doing this for.

One foot in front of the other and in no time I am getting a good pace and walking in between. As I come around a corner one girl is heading back in, I laugh, she is me twenty five or more years ago as I cruised through our time on a regular basis. I am impressed by her stamina, her youth and her ability. I hope she is grateful for that.

I also am quite impressed with the wide age ranges of people that were in the race. I saw one lady and am pretty sure she is in her seventies. Bravo my dear!  You are someone I strive to be at that point.

I am in the zone, and as I run my mind takes off. I have my headphones in to block out the others around me and not hear their chatting.

At one point my emotions take over, I begin to cry. I begin to think of where I was months ago, where I am now, how I keep aiming to kick MS and PTSD asses. I get reflective for a while and it takes everything I have to hold myself back dropping down crying and saying thank you and then getting back up again, but I have a goal to run.

The last race I ran was four years ago and then my world kept changing, throwing those curve balls endlessly at me, life was too busy and this year I am signed up for three already.

As I get into the wind in the west I feel the force against me. I keep telling myself ok, you got this. You can complete it, come on, do it! The hill against the wind was a challenge and I chose to walk it and save my strength and stamina for the end. I also thought crap you should have brought your cane for emergencies, but I am stubborn.

I see that finish line and off I go, just as if the treadmill was on sprints and I throw everything into it. I finished the race at 42:09, my goal was 45. I am proud of myself. I feel a tad lighter, and still feel ready to drop down and finish the cry I was having earlier, but first I eat!

“One day I won’t be able to do this, it is not this day.”

Love always the toe tired, sweaty, Woman in Process

P.S in three weeks I do it again, let’s see what I can shave off.