Anyone who has read through any of my blogs or previous writings etc. will be familiar with my lifelong struggle with figuring out who I am and finding the confidence in that person once I find it.
This has proven to be a huge struggle for me, because... well... I'm a wee bit inconsistent... one day I'm this and the next that... one day I'm here and the next there.
I've been feeling frustrated and unsuccessful in my quest until it just dawned on me recently that I've known it all along, I was just trying too hard to fit myself into a nice tidy box... a clearly defined personality.
When all along the answer was in the problem itself.... I found myself IN the inconsistency.
So I've taken a stab at defining me...
******************************************
I am Me and I'm extreme.
I am the dancer, unhindered and free
I am the bookworm, tucked quiety unnoticed in the corner
I am the the center of the crowd, the life of the gathering
I am the solitary soul alone, in the quietness, with my thoughts alone to keep me company
I am the epitome of confidence, sure of all I do
I am the insecure child, seeking reassurance
I am the lover, with so much affection to share with all who wish it
I am the island, who's real heart so very few ever actually reach
I am the city girl who thrives on the hussle and bussle around her
I am the outdoor girl who is most at peace in the rawness of nature
I am the mother, who loves home and hearth
I am the free spirit who can't be tied down
I am the loud party
I am the quiet walk through the woods
I am the modern independant woman, capable of anything I try
I am the medieval woman, wanting the gallant knight to care for me
I am the girl who loves to dress up and pamper herself
I am the girl who loves her comfy sweats and slippers
I am driven to succeed, I am inherently lazy
I am sensual, I am innocent
I am intellectual, I am artistic
I am generous to a fault, I am selfish far too often
I am warmth, and I am ice
I am filled with dreams, yet I have no direction
I am full of courage to try anything new, I am fearful as a small child on the inside
I am candid to a fault, far too unfiltered, I hold private the things that matter most.
I am all of this and so much more... and you know what?
I think I kinda like me that way!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
Beautiful
In the craziness of pre-concert preparations - greeting people and playing host, setting up sound, ensuring that all the last minute details are taken care of - she walks around with a confident air.
She is sure of the image she portrays, having gone through the decades old practiced ritual of achieving as close to the appearance of physical perfection that her aging face and body would allow. She had carefully selected her clothing, done her hair in the most appealing way she knew how and meticulously applied her makeup to best enhance her features.
This ritual gives her the confidence to face the crowd of strangers and friends that appear tonight; to smile, wink, converse and work the room so that everyone feels welcome and set for a good time.
She takes the compliments about both her appearance and the success of the event in stride, not with arrogance, but merely a calm sense of knowing... after all she has worked hard for both and failure just isn't an option on either front. While she often fools herself into thinking she has vanquished the demons from her past, it is all too evident that her sense of self worth are still too heavily ensnared in the sticky web of the appearance of perfection, beauty, success.
As the musicians finish setting up their instruments and begin to mingle with the crowd, they offer to buy each other drinks. "Let me see what I can do" she says to them before heading towards the bar.
She heads straight for the male bartender and gives him a sweet smile and a carefully placed hand on his arm. Leaning in slightly she asks in a too friendly manner, confident that he'll agree, if they could please have drinks on the house for the musicians. Smiling at her, he goes to pour two Guinness and tells her not to worry about it, he'd be happy to cover their drinks for the night and while he's at it could he grab her a drink on the house too?
Expressing her thanks and offering up a beaming smile and a wink for his kindness she takes the drinks back to the musicians. They give a chuckle and the headliner for the night says "Had either of us gone up we'd have to pay for our own drinks, but send a beautiful woman up and it's on the house!"
She laughs and takes the compliment with a smile and tucks it neatly away in her little mental storage box of positive affirmation that is constantly being filled, yet never feels full enough.
"It's going to be a great night" she thinks to herself as she scans the room to ensure there's nothing she overlooked. As her man gets up to sing first, she looks around in satisfaction at the smiling faces in the packed crowd. Happy that he's putting on such a strong performance to start the night, and with one of their musical idols sitting at her side waiting for his turn to entertain the crowd, her mind begins whirling with other thoughts.
Smiling politely at those that come up to say hi, and answering questions as they arise, her ear half listening to the music, the lyrics of one song begin to seep through to her conscious thought. And she knows. She knows the song is of her. The rest of the room fades out and everything becomes about the words... raw and exposing.
Her throat tightens and the musician beside her catches her eye. In a brief moment of needing to connect, to explain the emotion rushing through her, she scribbles a note quickly and passes it to him. "It's hard having your life laid bare in song... but it's also so honest and healing."
He looks at her with understanding and a nod, then gently takes the pen and begins to write. When he passes the paper back it has two simple sentences. "This is so true! You are beautiful."
In that moment, she knows, it is not her face of which he writes. He sees. He is speaking of HER. Not her face, her clothes or her ability to win over a crowd… but really her.
A tear wells up and slips silently down her face. In that moment, all the approval and compliments she has worked so hard to earn seem empty and meaningless. Trite words spoken by people who had not taken the time to see below the surface to the person beneath.
In that moment she feels truly beautiful. Had she been wearing sackcloth and ashes she still would feel beautiful with those three simple words that spoke not of how she looks, of the face she presented to the world, but of who she is. “Beauty is a state of being” she thinks and smiles through the tears welling in her eyes. “I want to always be that kind of beautiful.”
Later that night as she reflects over the evening in the comfort of her bed, the last words that stay with her as she drifts off to sleep with unspent tears glistening in her eyes… YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.
She is sure of the image she portrays, having gone through the decades old practiced ritual of achieving as close to the appearance of physical perfection that her aging face and body would allow. She had carefully selected her clothing, done her hair in the most appealing way she knew how and meticulously applied her makeup to best enhance her features.
This ritual gives her the confidence to face the crowd of strangers and friends that appear tonight; to smile, wink, converse and work the room so that everyone feels welcome and set for a good time.
She takes the compliments about both her appearance and the success of the event in stride, not with arrogance, but merely a calm sense of knowing... after all she has worked hard for both and failure just isn't an option on either front. While she often fools herself into thinking she has vanquished the demons from her past, it is all too evident that her sense of self worth are still too heavily ensnared in the sticky web of the appearance of perfection, beauty, success.
As the musicians finish setting up their instruments and begin to mingle with the crowd, they offer to buy each other drinks. "Let me see what I can do" she says to them before heading towards the bar.
She heads straight for the male bartender and gives him a sweet smile and a carefully placed hand on his arm. Leaning in slightly she asks in a too friendly manner, confident that he'll agree, if they could please have drinks on the house for the musicians. Smiling at her, he goes to pour two Guinness and tells her not to worry about it, he'd be happy to cover their drinks for the night and while he's at it could he grab her a drink on the house too?
Expressing her thanks and offering up a beaming smile and a wink for his kindness she takes the drinks back to the musicians. They give a chuckle and the headliner for the night says "Had either of us gone up we'd have to pay for our own drinks, but send a beautiful woman up and it's on the house!"
She laughs and takes the compliment with a smile and tucks it neatly away in her little mental storage box of positive affirmation that is constantly being filled, yet never feels full enough.
"It's going to be a great night" she thinks to herself as she scans the room to ensure there's nothing she overlooked. As her man gets up to sing first, she looks around in satisfaction at the smiling faces in the packed crowd. Happy that he's putting on such a strong performance to start the night, and with one of their musical idols sitting at her side waiting for his turn to entertain the crowd, her mind begins whirling with other thoughts.
Smiling politely at those that come up to say hi, and answering questions as they arise, her ear half listening to the music, the lyrics of one song begin to seep through to her conscious thought. And she knows. She knows the song is of her. The rest of the room fades out and everything becomes about the words... raw and exposing.
Her throat tightens and the musician beside her catches her eye. In a brief moment of needing to connect, to explain the emotion rushing through her, she scribbles a note quickly and passes it to him. "It's hard having your life laid bare in song... but it's also so honest and healing."
He looks at her with understanding and a nod, then gently takes the pen and begins to write. When he passes the paper back it has two simple sentences. "This is so true! You are beautiful."
In that moment, she knows, it is not her face of which he writes. He sees. He is speaking of HER. Not her face, her clothes or her ability to win over a crowd… but really her.
A tear wells up and slips silently down her face. In that moment, all the approval and compliments she has worked so hard to earn seem empty and meaningless. Trite words spoken by people who had not taken the time to see below the surface to the person beneath.
In that moment she feels truly beautiful. Had she been wearing sackcloth and ashes she still would feel beautiful with those three simple words that spoke not of how she looks, of the face she presented to the world, but of who she is. “Beauty is a state of being” she thinks and smiles through the tears welling in her eyes. “I want to always be that kind of beautiful.”
Later that night as she reflects over the evening in the comfort of her bed, the last words that stay with her as she drifts off to sleep with unspent tears glistening in her eyes… YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Finding beauty in the Valleys
So was in church a couple weeks back... and Pastor Steve was preaching on seeking out mountain top experiences. He was speaking about faith experiences and connection with God... those incredible moments when you feel so connected, so overpowered with the beauty, the incredible feeling of closeness and exhileration.
The problem is... I've always been a mountaintop kinda girl.
To a fault.
In all areas of my life.
I live for the mountaintop experiences... I live for the thrill...
In faith,
in my home life,
work life,
friendships,
social life...
I've always raced from mountaintop to mountaintop, finding the thrill and excitement from those experiences so incredible that I can never get enough.
Picture yourself having climbed one of the great peaks in the Rocky Mountains... feeling the triumph and exhileration at having reached the top...
looking around you at the incredible view that is more beautiful and breathtaking then anything you can imagine.
That's the feeling I have sought out fervently...
again and again.
So while the point of the message that Sunday morning was to encourage people to seek out those mountaintop experiences with God... the thing that hit home the hardest for me was his statement that you can't live forever on the mountaintop.
While it is beautiful and exhilerating... you can't sustain yourself in such an environment where the very things that you need for existence are not to be found. No food,
no shelter,
no water...
to stay up there indefinitely would mean to starve and thirst with no protection from exposure to the elements.
Those life sustaining things are found in the valley.
His point was that the mountaintop experiences would carry you through the valleys of life. But for me... I've begun to realize that the valley isn't the place to dread... to simply "live through"... but it's the place that sustains me and where the real life is found.
And when I truly open up my eyes to see beyond only the exhilerating wonder of the mountaintop view... I can see the calm serenity, the comfort, the nourishment, the peace, the joy and the breathtaking beauty that is found right here around me in the valleys.
My God who despite my wanderings and struggles keeps me grounded and safe.
My husband, who is my strength, my best friend, my lifeline.
My children who fill me with more joy and love than I feel like I can possibly hold inside me.
My true friends who accept my follies, encourage me in my journey of true self discovery and allow me to be myself.
This is my valley.
And man is it ever beautiful!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
The Eve of Change...
This was written in two parts... the first being quite awhile back as I was about to embark on a new direction in life. But I could only write so far as I did not know what lay beyond the change.
So now - well over a year later, when the dust is settling and I find myself on the flip side of the change, I have come back to complete the musing... full now of the knowledge that lies beyond the fear and the change.
***************************
Here I stand on the eve of change
I see the day behind me
Full of unfulfilled hopes and dreams come true
The joy of love
The sorrow of loss
The frusteration and contentment
The chaos and the peace
I lay these to rest in my treasure chest of memories
And I drift off to dream of tomorrows possibilities
Yet as the dawn of the new day breaks on the horizon
the comfort of the past wraps warm around me as a blanket
enticing me to bury myself deep under its cover
and steal a few more precious moments of its familiarity
The uncertainty of the new day feels cold
threatening
overwhelming in the air that surrounds me
Yet my unease keep me only but a moment on the brink of indecision
I breathe deeply to muster the courage
Shed the skin of fear
and I turn toward the future.
I find myself filled with such a sense of rightness
This
this is who I am
Here
Here is where I belong
The path ahead stretches beyond the horizon
Breaking out into many branches
Some paved, wide open and well lit
Others barely a discernable dirt path through a forest of trees
The thought of so many possibilities
So many different routes
Fills me not with a sense of dread, but of excitement
Eager anticipation for what lies ahead
As I prepare to take my first step I find my hand caught up in that of my lover
I turn to him
Fully expecting a battle
a plea to return
Only to find that he has come prepared to fare the journey at my side
Ahhhh...
This is completeness
Knowing I could have gone it alone
Seeing now that I don't have to
The prospect of the future now seems all the sweeter
Endless promise lies before us
We take our first step...
together.
So now - well over a year later, when the dust is settling and I find myself on the flip side of the change, I have come back to complete the musing... full now of the knowledge that lies beyond the fear and the change.
***************************
Here I stand on the eve of change
I see the day behind me
Full of unfulfilled hopes and dreams come true
The joy of love
The sorrow of loss
The frusteration and contentment
The chaos and the peace
I lay these to rest in my treasure chest of memoriesAnd I drift off to dream of tomorrows possibilities
Yet as the dawn of the new day breaks on the horizon
the comfort of the past wraps warm around me as a blanket
enticing me to bury myself deep under its cover
and steal a few more precious moments of its familiarity
The uncertainty of the new day feels cold
threatening
overwhelming in the air that surrounds me
Yet my unease keep me only but a moment on the brink of indecision
I breathe deeply to muster the courage
Shed the skin of fear
and I turn toward the future.
I find myself filled with such a sense of rightness
This
this is who I am
Here
Here is where I belong
The path ahead stretches beyond the horizon
Breaking out into many branches
Some paved, wide open and well lit
Others barely a discernable dirt path through a forest of trees
The thought of so many possibilities
So many different routes
Fills me not with a sense of dread, but of excitement
Eager anticipation for what lies ahead
As I prepare to take my first step I find my hand caught up in that of my lover
I turn to him
Fully expecting a battle
a plea to return
Only to find that he has come prepared to fare the journey at my side
Ahhhh... This is completeness
Knowing I could have gone it alone
Seeing now that I don't have to
The prospect of the future now seems all the sweeter
Endless promise lies before us
We take our first step...
together.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Honestly Yours
Wrote a song (with a little lyrical defibrillation from B thrown in) that sums up my journey over this past year.
It's one song, but written to multiple people at the same time.
Myself
My hubby
My friends
and God
HONESTLY YOURS
Empty disguises
Behind the lies is
A heart trying to come clean
A face that is smiling
With eyes that are crying
Like a ghost longing just to be seen
Just wanna be free
I need you to see
The girl I am behind closed doors
This is me
And I wanna be
Honestly yours
No more charades
No cheap masquarades
Might not seem just who I’ve been
Not who you’ve known
But it’s high time I’ve grown
Beyond this chameleon skin
Just wanna be free
I need you to see
The girl I am behind closed doors
This is me
And I wanna be
Honestly yours
(BRIDGE)
So see my face naked before you
Hear my mind break free before you
Feel my heart soar high before you
Know my love is ever for you
I'm breakin free
Now you can see
The girl I am behind closed doors
Well this is me
And I'm gonna be
Honestly yours
Monday, January 12, 2009
This is me.
I'm beginning to think that all of life is just a journey of self-discovery, or re-discovery in my case.
As a child, I was confident, happy, secure and free to be me. It didn't even cross my mind to try and be anything or anyone else.
But along the way of pre-adolescent insecurities, hurtful ribbing & jokes of friends, and experiences throughout those teen and young adult years that served to further imprint scars of self-doubt firmly into my psyche, I had lost site of me. Walls of self defense and self-preservation built up around my fragile inner self until I no longer recognized the person in the mirror.
So the last decade and a half has been a slow but steady search for and rediscovery of that carefree, confident freedom.
I liken it to an archeological dig of Pompei.
A once thriving, vivacious city, full of excitement, life and possibility, that in the course of one tragic event was buried under ash that encrusted it deep below the surface. Year after year the city was buried further and further as the passing of time added layer upon layer of earth.
Was the city destroyed? Most would say yes.
I say, it was preserved. Preserved for the day when it would be rediscovered, by a slow, steady and methodical unveiling process.
The city may not look as it once did, but there is so much to be learned from what is uncovered.
And while it's outer appearance might not shine as brightly as in the days of it's youth, there is a mystery, allure and beauty to the ruins that the city at the acme of it's existence could not have possessed or compared with.
The uncovered pieces of the past show signs of aging but are precious and invaluable... beyond worth or measure.
Likewise are the pieces of me.
As a child, I was confident, happy, secure and free to be me. It didn't even cross my mind to try and be anything or anyone else.
But along the way of pre-adolescent insecurities, hurtful ribbing & jokes of friends, and experiences throughout those teen and young adult years that served to further imprint scars of self-doubt firmly into my psyche, I had lost site of me. Walls of self defense and self-preservation built up around my fragile inner self until I no longer recognized the person in the mirror.
So the last decade and a half has been a slow but steady search for and rediscovery of that carefree, confident freedom.
I liken it to an archeological dig of Pompei.
A once thriving, vivacious city, full of excitement, life and possibility, that in the course of one tragic event was buried under ash that encrusted it deep below the surface. Year after year the city was buried further and further as the passing of time added layer upon layer of earth.
Was the city destroyed? Most would say yes.
I say, it was preserved. Preserved for the day when it would be rediscovered, by a slow, steady and methodical unveiling process.
The city may not look as it once did, but there is so much to be learned from what is uncovered.
And while it's outer appearance might not shine as brightly as in the days of it's youth, there is a mystery, allure and beauty to the ruins that the city at the acme of it's existence could not have possessed or compared with.
The uncovered pieces of the past show signs of aging but are precious and invaluable... beyond worth or measure.
Likewise are the pieces of me.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The Traveller's Profile
This is a cheat blog - taken from a few years back - but sharing it for the sake of my dear friend Mizz Mack.
We are getting ready for an excitement filled cruise at the end of the month, and me... being a bit obsessive about certain things... I've started packing already.
So am reposting this blog as, unfortunately, it's still very much true.
So in getting ready for our upcoming trip to florida... I've once again been thrust into the depths of philosophical thinking... and this one is deep... real deep...
I figure there are 2 types of people when it comes to packing for a vacation:
The over packer (aka: me).... and the underpacker (aka: my dear hubby)
THE PROFILE OF AN OVERPACKERS SUITCASE:
Clothing for every type of weather (I mean I know we're going to florida... but it COULD snow... you never know!)
Clothing for every possible mood that one could be in (comfy clothes, travel clothes, dressy clothes, super dressy clothes, sexy clothes, bum-around-feel-like-crap clothes, want-to-feel powerful clothes, feel-like-a-kid-today clothes, am-a-mother-so-get-practical clothes, etc...)
Enough underwear to last a month... just in case there happens to be a panty thief roaming around the hotel looking specifically for the oh-so-sexy underwear that a mother of six buys. I mean... there COULD be someone out there with a wierd fetish... and I aint goin commando should I become the victim of his thievery!!!
Enough medications & vitamins to open up a drugstore... But seriously... I COULD come down with a migraine AND acute arthritis, AND peritis anni AND athlete's foot AND 5 ulcers AND a broken nose, AND hemerhoids AND liver disease all in one week...
Every piece of identification known to mankind... I mean... just in case the people at the airport don't think my passport and permanent resident card and drivers license and health card and birth certificate are enough... they'll be convinced by my Zellers card and my Tanning Salon membership and my Gas card and my Donut club card... you name it... I've packed it. No way anyone will question who I am baby!
Every other miscellaneous item imaginable... I mean...really... that extra roll of toilet paper might just come in handy... you never know when the civilized world will run out of toilet paper and I aint gonna be stuck in that dilemma!!!
THE PROFILE OF AN UNDERPACKER'S SUITCASE:
"Suitcase? What suitcase? I'll just shove a change of underwear in my pocket and I'm good to go!!!"
(Thank the good Lord he at least remembered clean skivvies!!!!)
We are getting ready for an excitement filled cruise at the end of the month, and me... being a bit obsessive about certain things... I've started packing already.
So am reposting this blog as, unfortunately, it's still very much true.
So in getting ready for our upcoming trip to florida... I've once again been thrust into the depths of philosophical thinking... and this one is deep... real deep...
I figure there are 2 types of people when it comes to packing for a vacation:
The over packer (aka: me).... and the underpacker (aka: my dear hubby)
THE PROFILE OF AN OVERPACKERS SUITCASE:
Clothing for every type of weather (I mean I know we're going to florida... but it COULD snow... you never know!)
Clothing for every possible mood that one could be in (comfy clothes, travel clothes, dressy clothes, super dressy clothes, sexy clothes, bum-around-feel-like-crap clothes, want-to-feel powerful clothes, feel-like-a-kid-today clothes, am-a-mother-so-get-practical clothes, etc...)
Enough underwear to last a month... just in case there happens to be a panty thief roaming around the hotel looking specifically for the oh-so-sexy underwear that a mother of six buys. I mean... there COULD be someone out there with a wierd fetish... and I aint goin commando should I become the victim of his thievery!!!
Enough medications & vitamins to open up a drugstore... But seriously... I COULD come down with a migraine AND acute arthritis, AND peritis anni AND athlete's foot AND 5 ulcers AND a broken nose, AND hemerhoids AND liver disease all in one week...
Every piece of identification known to mankind... I mean... just in case the people at the airport don't think my passport and permanent resident card and drivers license and health card and birth certificate are enough... they'll be convinced by my Zellers card and my Tanning Salon membership and my Gas card and my Donut club card... you name it... I've packed it. No way anyone will question who I am baby!
Every other miscellaneous item imaginable... I mean...really... that extra roll of toilet paper might just come in handy... you never know when the civilized world will run out of toilet paper and I aint gonna be stuck in that dilemma!!!
THE PROFILE OF AN UNDERPACKER'S SUITCASE:
"Suitcase? What suitcase? I'll just shove a change of underwear in my pocket and I'm good to go!!!"
(Thank the good Lord he at least remembered clean skivvies!!!!)
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