"Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens" A few of my favourite things....

I know I've been Debbie Downer (Wah-Waaaaah) lately and that my writing has suited the worst parts of my currently not the greatest mood. I promise, however that I have not completely lost the charming (if I do say so myself, and I do because it's my blog) naivete and youthful exhuberance about ALL THE THINGS. I still force myself to keep my eyes up - because I certainly do not want to miss something magical within the mundane. It's this gratitude for the beauty of life that is my greatest coping mechanism, and the reason why I love running so very much. It affords me the opportunity to witness simple miracles and breathtaking beauty, and reminds me to stop and take those in, both on my run, and in every day life.
I went to the Christmas Market last night in downtown Toronto's Distillery District. I am a reluctant admitter to enjoying Christmas (My kids don't call me Mummy Grinch for nothing), but I have to admit that when I turned the corner and took in the lights and spectacle ahead of me, I may have gasped. People milling about, beautiful lights, Father Christmas, Christmas Carolers and the most beautiful, spectacular Christmas tree I have ever seen. The atmosphere was electric and, well, downright merry. While standing in the outdoor marketplace, my friend and I discussed how wandering around on a crisp winter evening was one of the best things ever ever ever to do (and made exponentially better by partaking in mulled wine).

So I woke up this morning thinking about some of my favourite things, which I realize are too many to list in one, or ten, or a hundred blogs. These are some of my favourite simple miracles:
-the sound a guitar makes when hand slides between one chord(?) note(?) I dunno what the technical term is - but that uniquely guitar sound makes my heart melt
-the swish swish sound your feet make when walking through fall leaves
-warm sun that invites you to tilt your head up and close your eyes for a moment
-the sound of laughter, and twinkly, laughy eyes
-that moment when a piece of music comes on and you recognize it, making your heart beat a little faster with excitement and the mind reach for the memories and feelings associated with it.
-movies with a narrator. Mostly because I am certain if my life was narrated, it would be done so by the Queen, or Julie Andrews, if QEII is a bit busy that day.
-the first smell of bread, baking in the oven
-the "heart skips a beat" feeling when you get a text/email/phone call etc...from someone you love, whether you last heard from them 5 minutes or 5 years ago
-a well poured and ready to drink Guiness. It's a stout piece of art and begs to be admired before consumption.
-the sound of footsteps, or, even better, hoofbeats. It's the sound of moving forward
-the smell of a fir tree on a crisp winter day
-an old tree, after it's leaves have fallen and it's branches are laid bare and vulnerable for all to see
-the roots of a tree peeking out of the earth
-anything about a tree actually, so to save some time I'll leave it there
-the first taste of a baked good after it's come out of the oven. You've had to wait for it to cool, it has taunted you with it's delicious aroma. That cookie is YOURS! All the sweeter for the patience.
-the Toronto skyline - most beautiful ever
-random talks to strangers
-the contented sigh a dog makes after laying down
-opening a card (any card - cards are amazing and simple and marvellous). Cards say someone has thought of you, and taken the time to show it.
and finally,(although I could go on), in the spirit of the season:
- Christmas Carols gone wrong. Such hits as "Santa Claus Doesn't Come To the Ghetto" by Yellowman, "Reggae Christmas" by Bryan Adams & PeeWee Herman, "Ludacrismas"by Ludacris, "Funky Funky Christmas" by NKOTB, "Simply Having A Wonderful Christmastime" by Paul Mcartney
-The Little Drummer Boy, as performed by David Bowie & Bing Crosby. If exposed to any of the above Christmas gigglers, this song will restore you faith in festive music. Although this song is my least favourite Christmas Carol, done by David and Bing, it is perfection, and my all time favourite.

It's sometimes impossible to see the beauty, I understand the truth of that. But a wise woman I knew before once said,

"Don't get so wrapped up in the details that you forget to enjoy the journey"

Find Your CORE

"I Used To Recognize Myself" A Reflection

Right now, in this moment, in fact, in this month and some of the bigger chunks of this year, I cannot see myself anymore. The woman I worked so hard to set free is nowhere in sight.
I went through treatment for my mental health issues. I have diligently done all the things that keep a person like myself content and sailing along smoothly. And by "person like myself" I mean someone with a predisposition to suffer anxiety and depression. I have taken meds, exercised diligently, exposed myself to sunlight, taken vitamin D, eaten healthily, knitted, sought professional help as needed. In short, I have been a model for recovery and living life to it's fullest with mental illness. In fact, if I didn't talk openly about it, before this year you likely had zero clue that I ever even had a bad day. That's because, for the most part, I rarely did. I was genuinely happy and full (brimming in fact) with joy and enthusiasm. When life tossed me lemons, I'd squeeze the fuck out of those little bastards and make the bestest lemonade ever, goshdarnit, and then deliver it to someone whose day needed a little cheering up. I was nice and unselfish and funny and kind and succesful and a good mother and a good wife and a good person. I was pretty happy if a little unfulfilled in some ways, and I sought even to change that and make that better.

Seeking to change, made everything change.

At some point in my life I will share the events of the last year with more people, but for now, just know that 2015 has not been my easiest year.

And I am, to put it blankly, a shell of the person I fought so hard to love.

I realised when chatting to runners the other day, that the hardest part of every run, is the actual decision to get out of bed in the morning and go. I understand, because truly, there is no greater task that I face every single day. It takes every single ounce of my strength and willpower to sit up and get on with my day. This is NOT me.

I have, despite all that I have been handled to cope with, a charmed life, and yet I have to fight myself to get up and live it. There are problems I must face every day,that's for sure, but mine are so insignificant in the scheme of things that it's laughable that I give them more a passing glance and struggle to get on with my day. I have a roof over my head, people who love me, a nice car, a full time job, friends and so much more to celebrate. But, to my chagrin, I can't find an ounce of joy and gratitude for even one little bit of it.

I am lost.

The fact that my IPod needs charging and I have nowhere to charge it today, was akin to a national tragedy for me today.

Who am I.

Where is the self-confident, got it together motivator who makes things happen. The woman who thrives on pressure, loves a challenge and makes shit happen? Where is she?

Guilt.

The overwhelming shame and guilt and grief for feeling like this when people are starvingdyinglivinginfearpovertywarfamine. I live in Canada for goodness sake.

Helpless.

I never stopped looking after myself - never missed workouts or ignored signs. I have taken care of myself.

Yet here I am.

Shame.

My persistent best frenemy.

Dragged myself to yoga this morning to hear this timely little pearl of wisdom:

"Sometimes we have feelings, physical and emotional, that arise in times we are challenged. The hardest part is not attempting to fix them, but just allowing ourselves to live with them until they pass and we feel whole again."

I realized, when talking to my running friends the other day, that they were right.

The hardest part about life, is deciding to live it.

See you tomorrow.

Find Your CORE

"A Candle Of Hope In November's Dark Night"

I get out and see a lot of things, and like a lot of people of an advanced age (ahem)I have had a range of life experiences.
I've watched a brand new life take it's very first breath on earth and held the hand of a life at end as it breathed it's last.
These are the two extremes of life as we know it.
Both were immeasurable in the immensity of the moment, and in the very privilege of being present.

There are times in life that you feel as if your heart has exploded and in it's tattered place beats an emotion so extreme it envelopes your entire soul.
This is not an unfamiliar feeling to me - despite my claims to the contrary and my desire to be otherwise, I am a person who feels things immensely. I don't do feelings in small measure.
I have felt overwhelmed with joy upon turning a corner and seeing the sun bursting through the trees ahead.
I have been overcome with happiness watching an air show with my kids because the moment recalled a similar moment shared with my Dad in my childhood.
I have been torn apart by anger when someone I love has been hurt or wronged.
I have been overwrought with sadness when I couldn't take away the pain of someone who suffered.

We have all felt these emotions. We have all felt these and many others so strongly that the feelings overtake us and the moment becomes something bigger than us ourselves, little humans on a small planet in a mediocre solar system in the vast unknown of the universe.

I have heard this referred to as a "thin space" by a wonderful and wise minister, during a particularly meaningful sermon he once preached.
This expression has stuck with me as a description for this amazing and terrifying feeling.

When had such a feeling recently I, ever research minded, decided to google that shit.

A "thin place" is described in Celtic lore as " a place where the boundary between heaven and earth is especially thin. A place where we can sense the divine more readily".

I read several sources, that state various similar descriptions, often touting the boundaries of life and death, where people experience the "Divine" (insert your belief in whatever Deity you deem fit) most strongly. Either in an earthly place, or through human experience.

The advent season, in Christian traditions, is a period defined by waiting and preparing. Preparing for the miraculous and wondrous arrival of that most human of emotions. This, my friends, is why Christmas is so infinitely beautiful. It is the ultimate thin space. At heart, we celebrate the human ability to nurture,to love and to HOPE.

I don't know what will happen tomorrow or next year. But in those quiet moments of overwhelming feels, I know that the people I love are with me.
I know that the warm brush of sunlight that randomly brought a lump to my throat and made my heart swell means I am not alone. I know that when I see a friend suffer and feel the crushing anvil of defeat in my inability to save them, it means I am not alone. Don't push the moment away, however painful it may be. Stand on the edge of your own divinity and live.

Find Your CORE.