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Showing posts from February, 2016

"The Weight"

NOTE: I made a promise to myself long ago that I would avoid, whenever possible, participating in discussion about women's bodies. I don't think it's healthy and I feel that we spend far too much time in this world obsessing about it. It makes me sad for women and for society. So I try not to participate in what I see as a problem. I am making an exception for this post. I hope with this post that we can start a conversation that moves us towards a solution.

People who have a mental illness carry a great weight around with them most days. Certainly, there are moments of brevity and laughter but these are often fleeting, floating away like a butterfly; you enjoy the beauty of the moment but can't quite hold onto it. It's just beyond your grasp. The majority of the time when you are living with depression you feel like you have a dark, heavy wool blanket weighing you down. The weight feels such a burden that you struggle, and often you give in to it. Unable to carry …

"The RMT & Me"

I spent a sensuous hour with a tall, dark and ruggedly handsome man yesterday. His strong, warm hands on my back made me drool, my toes curl and left me in a dream-like state at the end of it all. Um, no - I am not talking about that. This dream man was a registered massage therapist and boy, did he take me to a special place.

Last week was stressful with all the bad and good things that that implies. It was a great week but it was busy and I had to be 'on' at work for most of it - not much downtime or quiet, something that I need to stay balanced. This coming week will be more of the same. And, very likely, the week after that, too. I love my job - truly. It's rare when you find yourself in a place where personal and professional passions meet. I find myself in that sweet spot now. But nothing comes for free in life. If I were to give myself completely to my work, it would be at a cost - a cost to my physical and mental well-being. And that's not something that I am …

"Valentine's Day Love Letter"

Valentine's Day for me is never about romantic love. It's about love. Period. Sure, when I was in my twenties and had some tumultuous, passionate relationships (oh, young love!) it was about my boyfriends at the time. One year I received a beautiful bouquet of roses. A few days later I got dumped. Hmm. Kind of makes the roses loses their luster, doesn't it? It also works wonders for a young woman's self esteem. But that is another post (and probably a therapy session or two...). The older that I have gotten, the more I have moved away from the Hallmark card ideal of what Valentine's Day 'should be'. 
My maternal grandmother was a very sweet, generous, loving woman. She taught me, very early in my life, the power of a small, thoughtful gesture. She would make your favourite cookies when you came for a visit (for the record, homemade sour cream cookies stored in a plastic ice cream tub), send you an Easter package with lollipops and an inflatable bunny rabbi…

"Merci, Gracias, Thank You"

Thank you. How often do you say these two words? I truly believe that these words hold the key to unlocking contentment and happiness. Does it sound like I am about to launch into a Pollyanna-ish post about all things rainbows and butterflies? Perhaps. Stay with me...

The American author Melody Beattie describes gratitude and its transformative power like this:

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow."

I am in a chapter of my life where gratitude comes easily to me. It's second nature for me to find myself in a random, yet intentional, moment when I am simply thankful. It might be at night when I tuck myself into bed and a smile creeps over my face as I feel how cozy my bed is, how comfo…