"Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing." - Arundhati Roy (1961 - ) Indian Writer and Activist

After what seems like months of struggling with personal and business stress, change and deadlines, I finally feel as though sunshine is beginning to burn off the fog that I've been in.

The other day I scrolled back through the last several months of this blog. I was horrified by the tone in some of my writing. God only knows why someone would read it - it's not like it is 'feel good' material. It has been really depressing and unsettling.

It's like I got lost. In a way I guess I was.

Like the analogy of - you can't see the forest for the trees - that's how I'd describe the last few months. I was in the middle of the cool, evening forest, snagging my sweater on sharp twigs, walking in circles, feeling as though I wasn't going anywhere.

Then this week, it's like someone spun me around, pointed to a clearing and said... "just go that way."

And I felt a little like an ass... 'you mean... it was over there... the whole time? I was so busy looking at the golldurn trees that I didn't see the meadow. Oh look, a cute little bunny...'

And then I felt relief. And I could breathe again - and the panic evaporated like dew off the grass. And the sun shone through the trees. (Rather dramatic? Hey, that's me

But it absolutely felt every bit that good.

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come." - Anne Lamott (1954 - ) Novelist and Memoirist

You see, I've been growing again. That familiar ache behind my knees as I stretch outside my comfort zone. The feeling I've had during the times when I've grown the most - much like shedding my skin. Growing pains.

Growing can be very uncomfortable. And I don't do it quietly. I have to talk about my pains - endlessly droning on and on and on to my family and friends. I become a one-track-mind freak. Whatever I am growing through becomes my obsessive thought pattern. I wake up in the middle of the night and I know I am problem solving in my sleep. I carry my growing pain like a giant, heavy lobsided canvas bag - over one shoulder. I suffer from the deep searing burn in the muscles under my shoulder blade and up my neck.

Transformation in nature is never easy. But it is natural. And beautiful. It is captivating. Think of a butterfly emerging from a coccoon or a snake shedding it's skin. It is a difficult, challenging and exhausting process that brings great relief, beauty and newfound freedom.

And it is the natural course for people, too.

"If you're not uncomfortable, you're not growing." - Anonymous

It is during times of growth, upheaval and stress that I am forced to find my 'game-face'.  I will stew and fret and fight and challenge the growth. I cry and fudge around and bemoan my situation and feel incompentent. (I've done it with bad relationships. I've done it with depression. I've done it when I needed to leave a job. I've done it with weight loss. I've done it when I outgrew a friend. I've done it with anxiety.)

And then one day - I get sick of myself.

I get so sick of my talking, stewing, obsessing, worrying and fearing (false expectations appearing real - in this case, fear of growing and the 'unexpected') that something turns off inside - like a big light switch  - and I say "okay Kim - enough is enough!"

"I believe that true identiy is found in creative activity springing from within. It is found when one loses oneself." - Anne Morrow Lindbergh (1906 - 2001) Writer and Pioneering Aviator

There comes a point in my growth when I finally tear through the toughest part of the coccoon, when I break through the skin, when I can finally see the meadow through the last of the trees - and I find renewed strength. Courage I thought had left me. A flow of ideas where there was a dry well. Restored faith.

I was never really lost. 

I am exactly where I am meant to be. Today. Right here, right now. And my breathing is easy. And my laughter comes freely. And I am delirious with possibilities.

"Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead." - Louisa May Alcott (1832 - 188 Writer

In the distance, maybe only a mile or two from where I stand now, there is another cool, deep and dark forest. But I don't care.

I am on the breeze. Fluttering and spiraling. Dancing in the sunshine. Transformed by my own painful metamorphasis.

Look at my pretty new wings.

Sometimes a successful day is:


- walking out of the house with nude underwear under white pants

- wearing two of the same shoe

- remembering where you put your keys

- not spilling coffee on yourself

- doing 6 out of 22 things on the TO-DO list

- making it through a conversation without crying

- no rooster tail on the back of your head

- good zit cover-up

- kissing each child good night

- making lunches the night before

- a warm bed to crawl into

- talking to a friend

- opening the mail

- cheese and crackers for dinner

- knowing your mommy loves you no matter HOW you do

My evil twin made an appearance yesterday.

Heads up: I really don't have an 'evil twin' and no, it wasn't my period, although I suspect it is hormonally related. (Even though I HATE that explanation for bad behaviour on the part of women.)

This feels completely out of my control. My evil twin is my 'Inner Terrorist.' This is the part of me who is never satisified, is completely miserable, has biting words, doubts everything, hates herself and wants to punch somebody out.

Usually she arrives and torments only me, but yesterday, my poor, unsuspecting husband greeted her with open arms when she knocked at the door.

The poor guy...

I decided as soon as I woke up, as I stumbled to the laundry room to start my 4th load of darks, that I hate my self. There has never been anyone as repulsive as me. My soft middle, my morning breath, my hair (which due to length, stands straight up in a pillow pressed Iroquois, only it tips to one side and bounces slightly when I walk), my white, mealy, porridge thighs. Frankly, if I don't like myself, then I don't like anyone else, either. (Notice that these are all physical traits that I despise

I bump around the kitchen like a fly against a window, begrudgingly make French toast and sausages for breakfast, and sip my coffee. All the while, in my head, I am berating myself, vowing to start a new diet and cursing the single white puffy cloud that dots the stunning blue sky behind the house.

Yesterday, nothing could have been right.

Around 11:30am my husband and I went for a 'run'. We used to run the whole track of cedar chip path around the lakes, but it has been five months since I've done a lick of exercise (read the previous blog: Exercise is my happy pill.) and exercise is what keeps me sane. Running even one block winds me now.

We were silent and I stormed several paces ahead for the first mile, making what I thought was a very clear, "I'm mad at you for nothing" statement.

Our run time is our together time. He tried to make small talk and received very short answers from me. We decided after the first third of the leg around the lake, that we would sit in our favourite sun spot and bask for a while.

The whole while my throat burned and ached, and tears stung at the backs of my eyes. My thoughts had grown and built all morning until I had created a complete internal disaster.

So I practically waggled my finger in his face and proceeded to say, "If you think I am attending a single wedding this summer (we have three and my 20 year school reunion) looking like a fucking beached whale, you've got another thing coming, Mister!"

He tried to deflect gently, but I rebuttled myself with something along the lines of - "I am a failure as a mother." and some big long nonsense explanation why I thought that.

I think he rolled his eyes and started to get frustrated. (He doesn't 'do' nonsense very well.) Then I did a bang up finish with a rant that "everyone else is perfect and I am a big fat stinking loser."


It's almost embarrassing to admit to today... but I have to.


By this point in the 'conversation' tears are coming even though I don't want them to. I wick them away from under my sunglasses and want to scream and freak out... not at him, but just in general. I only half-want him to reach out an arm and apologize for everything insensitive or selfish that he has ever done wrong.

Please remember that logically I KNOW this has nothing to do with him. I want him to make a big deal about me, and reassure me that I am lovely and wonderful, so that I can prove with valid personal testimonials that I am secretly the biggest human anomoly that walks the planet.

Instead, he is his usual reliable, practical and even-tempered self and says,

"Kim, you don't need anyone else to criticize, condemn, judge or beat you up, because you do a better job of it than anyone else possibly could. I can't believe that with where you are in your life, what you can do, what you've accomplished and how you live, that you would even consider talking about yourself like that. You think about and treat yourself way worse than anyone else could."

Any he's right.

My judgment of my own choices, thoughts, actions and emotions is completely volatile and severe. And on a day like yesterday, my 'Inner Terrorist' hijacks my mind and assualts the positive, happy peaceful and growing me, and does it's best to thwart any chance of bliss on a beautiful sunny day. Not only will it not let me be happy with myself, but it won't let anyone else be happy either.

Getting the inner terrorist to shut up can be really difficult. Self-doubt and self-judgement are powerful illusions. Old beliefs are equally as strong. You'll recognize them as the negative 'self-talk' that plays inside your head.

Internal running commentary like:
"I am such a loser."
"No wonder you're fat, can you stuff another bite in your mouth?"
"You aren't good enough."

Some of my own personal ones are:

"Chaos." (a nickname from childhood)
"Noone likes the big girl." (thoughts on physical self)
"Who do you think you are?" (thoughts on mental self)

No matter how much I've grown, how many changes I've made and who I've become - there are pieces deep inside that bubble up occasionally.
When I feel my insecurites bubble up, I move them aside or stuff them down or ignore them. Or I acknowledge them and let them go.

But once in a blue moon, it's harder to manage.
Like yesterday.

So today, I start fresh.

I see where I've been.
I practice extreme self-care. (bubble bath, heatlhy food, another run)
And I make amends. (Ask for and allow forgiveness.)

And I recognize that all I have is today.
I am not yesterday.
I am not tomorrow.
I am this moment.

And right this moment I am exactly where I am meant to be.
Lessons and all.

I am a work-in-progress.