Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same ~ Emily Bronte
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When I was a little girl, Cinderella was my favourite cartoon. I believed in the Disney-created fairytale of “The One”, of “My Knight in Shining Armour” or even better, my soul mate. I worked at a movie theatre and saw all the movies, all the rom-coms that were so popular in the late-90s and early 2000s. I was exactly the right age to be swayed by Jerry Maguire and his “You complete me.” I was set up to fail.
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There is a liberation that comes with age, with experience, with self-exploration, and with a deep-down belief and love of myself. The relationship that I had always wanted had to begin with me. There was no one who could, would or should complete me. That was my job. And I took that job seriously. What I wanted in a partner, in a relationship, in love, I needed to invite into my life. I needed to be clear on who I am, what my core values are, what sets my soul on fire.
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And then I met you.
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The ease of our synchronicity and the depth of our understanding of each other is beyond what I could ever have hoped for. You always say, “I got you” and nothing could be more true. You got me. In all the ways ❤️
We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing ~ George Bernard Shaw
She stared into the forest, narrowing her small eyes and held her breath, waiting. Nothing. Tex, her Golden Lab, sat quietly at her side. His soft panting providing her confidence and comfort that he was still there and still on guard. She sighed and squished her eyes shut as tight as they would go. Counting to 20, out loud, in a soft voice because counting in her head was merely thinking the numbers and not actually counting. Or that was the logic she gave her older brother the previous evening.
She wanted to hang out with him. He was holed up in his room, as he always was after dinner, reading and listening to Ozzy Osbourne on repeat. She knocked on his door and asked if she could read with him. He sighed and let her in. As she lay on the bed bed to him, she opened her book and began reading, out loud. He looked at her sideways, “I thought you were gonna read to yourself!” She looked at him strangely and said, “I am reading to myself, I don’t expect you to listen.” He smirked, “why don’t you try reading to yourself in your head?” She was quick to reply, “but then I’m only thinking the words, I’m not reading.” He had no quick retort, the logic was sound.
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Action expresses priorities ~ Mahatma Gandhi
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“They” say you can’t do it all. Whoever “they” are clearly don’t know me and my competitive nature, or my fierce acceptance of any challenge. However, I will concede that there are not enough hours in the day, especially if those days are filled with the necessity of a job. I am left with the thought of if I even want to do it all? And if not, then what is it I choose, or decide, to do?
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A fellow blogger recently said that he has flipped his “To-Do” list upside down, as the items at the bottom never get done. His list, it seemed, was written with fun first and adulting later, which by the nature of being at the bottom, rarely was accomplished. I have traditionally been the opposite, with the should do’s at the top. The chores, the tasks, the items that I should be accomplishing, especially on my days off. This way of looking at my list led to feelings of guilt, and shame, of not being able to accomplish all that I should. In the process of shoulding on myself, I was left unmotivated, uninspired, and quite frankly, grouchy as fuck.
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This weekend I decided, I chose, to flip my list upside down and reset by priorities. By my very nature, the things that I want to be doing, that are beneficial to my soul and my well being, were at the bottom, after the adulting was complete.
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But you can’t do it all.
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This weekend we chose to sleep in, and sleep in we did. We chose to cook a big, indulgent, salty brunch. And we chose to go for a hike, the first one since breaking my foot. Generally, if I’m not hiking by 8 am I wonder what has taken me so long. But this weekend our hike started at 3, what the?! The list was flipped, the priorities readjusted, and all the minutes were spent doing what we wanted, and really what was needed.
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The result was motivating, inspiring, and was the ultimate soul fuel. Rejuvenated, reconnected and ready to tackle the bottom of the list. Well, maybe tomorrow đź’š
Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage ~ Lao Tzu
My mom always told me that I wore my heart on my sleeve. She was worried about how much I lost it, or gave it away, or how easy it was to be stolen. Afterall it was right there, in plain sight. This never changed, despite the many who dropped it, I would pick it up, dust it off, attend to the bruises, bumps, cracks and broken pieces (duct tape always works) and affix it firmly back from where it came. On my sleeve.
Wearing my heart on my sleeve has been looked at by many as dangerous, risky and making me more open to getting hurt or being taken advantage of. That I am in someway more naive. I assure you that that is only partially accurate. It is true that the phrase itself is a casual way of saying that I expose my emotions more often, say what I’m thinking, put it “all out there” and I am an open book. I don’t know how to be any other way. I give of myself, and yes, there are times when I have given too much, but at least I try. I continue to put myself out there and give it a go. Yes, I have fallen down, yes I have been hurt, yes I have shed tears, but I have never become bitter or jaded or angry, because I still believe in love. I still believe in the good in people, in connection, in kindness, in vulnerability and being truly myself, in all of my perfect imperfection.
The alternative does not excite me. Although a guarded, hidden or slow moving heart does offer some protection from hurt, disappointment and rejection, it also shields from truly loving and accepting love. To me, that hurts more than a failed attempt. Living behind walls and not being truly open can prevent rejection, but it also prevents acceptance. It impedes connection and intimacy and a true acceptance of who we really are. I admit that I have made some less than optimal decisions, and trusted in some less than optimal relationships. These experiences, although could be viewed as failures and reasons to hide, have allowed me to love harder.
I say too much, show too much, share too freely. I love with all I have to give. I can only be me, heart on my sleeve and all đź’š
We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them ~ Albert Einstein
This morning while I was walking to work, bundled up in my parka, toque and all things Canadian that are required to survive our polar vortex and the one week of winter that we enjoy here on the West Coast, I overheard someone on the phone while walking with purpose to her destination. I assume she was on her way to work. She looked corporate in her tights and skirt and boots, but I am making assumptions. I wasn’t particularly interested in her conversation and wasn’t really listening until we stopped at the crosswalk and I heard her say, “we need to think outside of the box on this one.” I think I internally groaned and eye-rolled, however there is a good chance I used my outside voice, I’m not entirely sure.
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