Showing posts with label finding yourself. Show all posts
Showing posts with label finding yourself. Show all posts

Nov 22, 2014


What I would give for one more moment...

In the car with my parents and brothers listening to Genesis, Styx, Fleetwood Mac on a family vacation. My father at the wheel young and healthy, telling us jokes and my mother at ease by his side loving life, loving us and forever moving forward with her hand closed around mine.

Friday night dinner with my grandparents, at the table looking around at all of our faces and listening to our stories, laughing, smiling already having learned the art of treasuring every moment as if it is your last. 

The first time I fell in love without questioning that love, without feeling like I was falling but like I was floating, rising above everything to a place of wonderment and acceptance; a place that felt like no other.

Meeting my 7 yr old and 9 yr old stepsons for the first time - instant motherhood - instant time to put myself aside and them first - the scary feeling in the pit of my stomach - the warm feeling in the depth of my soul - hoping we would connect and everything would be alright  - a connection I had hoped would stand the test of time.

In the country walking, running with all of the dogs that have enriched my life, and shown me love in a way I would have otherwise never experienced. The precious time before their sudden exits; so awful, so painful, but that taught me if it can hurt that much to lose a dog, it is all the more reason to go and love another one.

To be back in high school hanging out with my friends who were also my family. Having no idea what life had in store for us, and knowing how to live in the moment even as the moments slipped by. 

There would be marriages and splits, children coming into the world, parents leaving the world and friends succumbing to illness, to stress and vanishing into thin air.

Ringing the doorbell at my parents house (the house I grew up in), and being greeted by my Dad asking 20 questions, making hysterical remarks, comments and observations. Our Yorkshire Terrier, Casey, running up and down the hall, as if he had not seen me in 100 years  and my mom in the kitchen cooking up a storm. 

To sit at that kitchen table, just one more time with both my parents sharing stories, laughing, crying, mending our souls. I would tell them everything I was afraid of, and how lost I have been, even though I have found a new path to follow. And reassuringly they would say, "Everything happens for a reason - you'll be okay" even if they were not sure I was going to be okay.

And while I think of each of these moments, I am in another that will surely pass. 

All of the moments of our lives eventually fall from the reel, onto the floor. We have to catch them mid air, and hold onto them for as long as we can, because once they land, the only way to replay them is by heart.

What would be your moment?

Jan 12, 2014

A Night With A Stranger

I couldn’t sleep.

I found myself sitting on the side of my bed – a familiar place, lost, alone and wondering how my life had gone so off track.

I needed to escape the four walls of the small loft that had become my living space but not my home.

I closed the cage to the elevator and took a left out of my building and then a sharp right onto St. Laurent.

I made my way to an all-night diner for people like me who find themselves wide awake while everyone else sleeps. All members of a club with no name and only one rule; don't judge because there is a very thin line between me being you and you being me.

I was in need of comfort food. I was in need of a gentle hand stroking my back and a soft reassuring voice saying "it's all going to be alright". 

And as much as it scared me, I knew what I was really there for - I needed to hold someone and be held. I needed to spend time with someone who knew nothing about me and who wouldn't ask the questions everyone asks.

I needed someone to stay without leaving and leave without staying.

Two stools down the counter, sipping coffee and reading an old messed up copy of “Beautiful Losers” by Leonard Cohen; sat a attractive man with salt and pepper hair. He was wearing a white t-shirt, faded Levis and Converse runners. His arms were graced in tattoo half sleeves, his biceps defined, his veins alert.

The funny thing is when two people know exactly what they want without all the bullshit and guessing; it takes very little time to make it happen. 

So with very few words, we left the diner and headed back to my place.

It was raining.

We were soaked to the skin by the time we arrived so we undressed immediately and met in the middle of the futon.

He kissed me with full lips as his tongue explored my mouth. I kissed his neck and moved my way along his body.

I smelled him the way you smell someone the first time you are naked with them – breathing heavily, bare and beautiful.

I tasted him - sweet and smooth.

We rocked back and forth, his hands gently caressing me as if we had been lovers for years caring for one another whenever the world was cruel.

The barter complete, in each other's arms, no prying into the other's life, no judgment or assumptions, nothing but two people breathing in and out.

We fell asleep, our hearts beating in unison - masters of our souls. 

An hour passed and we began again.

A rhythmic waltz transcending our minds to a much better place away from the noise simmering everything down to a whisper.

He held me closely and carefully as if he would never let me go. Awakened were parts of ourselves that otherwise would sleep in a dark oblivion.

We hugged, kissed, sipped coffee and smiled with little to say sitting upward on the couch now disconnected, barely co-existing.

He kissed me one last time and vanished behind the closed door as if it never opened.

For those few hours he made me feel whole, the scent of him still in my pores, the suds unable to wash him away. 

I fell asleep wishing he was still holding me - his taste still upon my tongue - all the while knowing I would wake up the next morning on empty again.

So I say this to you - reading - 

This never happened to me except for once or twice in another place and time. Maybe this is your story as much as it is mine.

In the beginning or the middle and certainly in the end




For someone to come and reveal a slice of light

Upon our lonely blank canvas

If even for a moment

In our darkest hour


Nov 15, 2013

I Forgot to Marry My Ken Doll and Have Mountain Children and this is why

When I was a kid, my "happily ever after" (hereafter noted as "HEA") consisted of marrying my Ken doll (G.I. Joe was a close 2nd) and moving to Colorado where we would build a log home without a picket fence and have mountain children and a goat named Ed.


Then I went off to elementary school and when I was in that pivotal role of a 6th grader – not quite a child, not quite a teenager, I changed my mind and my HEA became  marrying a Veterinarian and having 5 dogs instead of 5 children and naming them Gus, Spade, Hank, Jack and Wilbur.

High school came along and my HEA became me and my friends moving to California and living together in one of those houses by Venice Beach like the ones in the movies where good looking, cool people live. We would run a taco stand on the boardwalk and play guitar and drink beer by a bonfire at night.

Then I made my way to University and all my HEA became – "What am I going to do with my life and how am I ever going to be able to move out of my parent’s basement and why can’t I keep a relationship going for longer than 3 months and why didn’t I move to Colorado with G.I. Joe or was it Ken?

Then I started my career and my HEA was a best seller, a loft in Old Montreal, a Mini Cooper (sky blue), a dog named Buddy, a boyfriend who understood that I need lots of alone time and two mountain children.

Then one day I woke up and I was 30. My HEA consisted of good health and lots of it, finding someone I could actually stand for more than 3 months who would be my best friend and my life partner, two big dogs and a log home made of logs and two mountain stepsons.

And you know what? I got some of that, lost some of that and now at the ripe age of 40 something, my HEA consists of good health because that trumps all else.

I have also come to the conclusion that Ken is just a doll.

His log home is fake.

He will never tell me that he loves me.

He won't be joining me for a game of  shuffleboard in the hot Florida sun.

And sometimes as good as something looks from a distance, it never looks the same from close up. 

Sep 19, 2013


Strength keeps you standing even when the ground beneath you is crumbling.

When something traumatic happens in your life, the blow can be so severe, that you find yourself knocking on a friend's door, asking if you can borrow some of their strength.

And as you stand with your heart in your hand, and an aching pain in your gut, you are fully aware that you may not be able to return that strength, for some time.

Strength allows you to focus on the middle rather than the beginning or the end.

Strength is what gets you from here to there.

There will always be a demand for strength.

There will never be a demand for weakness. 

Just keep in mind that weakness usually shows up first.

It's up to you whether strength shows up next.

Mar 3, 2012

Why Do People Fall Apart?

People fall apart when they lose a sense of who they are or come to the realization of who they are not. Some people never delve this deep and never really change. They glide through life on a straight line - wax on - wax off.

People who lose themselves are also people who look for themselves everywhere and in everyone they meet. They look in all the right places and they lose themselves in all the wrong places.

Some of them eventually do find themselves and that allows them to settle down and walk that straight line. While others flip and flop and fly and crash and repeat the process again and again to no avail. They are tired, worn souls and although both they and their loved ones wish they could follow a straight line; they don't know how -mostly because they can't see straight.

What makes people fall apart? Well sometimes they feel alone without support, love or empathy and other times they aren’t alone rather they are surrounded by people who care for them deeply; yet still they are extremely lonely.

And although they pray night after empty night to find someone who will help them find themselves; they still go to bed alone, wake up alone and wonder what the hell happened to their lives. When did this massive bulldozer blow through town and plow  their life leaving them buried in the wreckage?

At the core of it all is the child within us and the residue of our upbringings that we carry forward our entire lives. It’s the cut that never healed, the closure that never took place and the words that were never said.


We all need to find ourselves. We have our whole lives to do so and there are many hints along the way. There are people who bring us further toward the light and those who lead us through a maze of misfortune. Sometimes you aren’t able to distinguish between the two but eventually and inevitably you do and that makes the difference between being on the floor with your head in your hands or standing high with your head in the clouds.

I don’t think there is any clear and succinct definition of who we are to ourselves let alone to others. I’m not sure if it even matters. But I think at one point or another we all suffer the pain of being lost within ourselves and not knowing what to reach for next. I think we are just as capable of closing that door and staying behind it as we are of opening it and walking away.

We all fall apart. Some of us pick up the pieces and move on while others - well we just keep falling.

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