My Voice Volume II

Sorry guys, running a little late this morning. The thought flashed across my mind as if it was spoken word to a committee of people waiting for me at my desk.

I’ve been on so many webinars lately that I find I’m having difficulty wanting to sit at my desk and do my work. That’s when I know it’s time to shift my focus. I haven’t always been tuned in this way though. In the past, I would keep watching, reading and showing up. All great material and excellent for personal and business development, but I wasn’t paying attention to the voice that mattered the most. Mine.

There is a plethora of material out there that can help you along your path, no matter what it is you need to work on, or want to learn more about you can access it. We truly do have a world of knowledge at our finger tips, from computers, to smart phones, to documentaries on Netflix. We can find just about everything we want and learn from it. But what I have embraced is that we must also listen to our own voices. Our own words. Our own direction. Our own little committee.

When I had my thought this morning of advising my little committee that I was running late, it inspired me to reconsider how important it is to listen. It may sound silly to us when we say it or think it, but the reality is, that little voice or committee, knows exactly what you need. I operate from a very intuitive place. What I know I need to do is often very clear. I don’t hear it, I just know it. Sometimes I get into a space of needing to be told. I need to hear the words. My words. Sometimes, in order to really hear it, I will ask, what’s going on today guys? What’s the focus today? What do we need to do today?

What is your voice saying you need today?

My Voice

I’ll never forget the time I stopped posting my writings to my blog. It wasn’t all that long ago, but the impact was huge. I took my website down, and anyone who was following me at the time likely wondered where the hell I went. I was still posting on Facebook, but I’ve since learned how to play with privacy features.

I was writing for me, and secondarily there is always a message in what I write. I have healed so much of my life through my writing. I also believe that our stories help others grow and that it is my duty as a Healer to bring my audience and clients my lived experiences so that they too can gain something. In Danielle LaPorte’s book White Hot Truth, she speaks exactly to this.

“May my suffering be of service.”

When these words of hers came across the page, I damn near fell over. YES! This is exactly it! She calls it a sublime Buddhist approach to pain, and I love it.
The reason I stopped writing in that moment was because I was approached by people, who shall remain nameless, demanded an explanation as to what I was so upset about, why I was so angry. Oh and also throwing in why was I being unprofessional and swearing in my writings while I’m trying to “be who I’m trying to be”.

What the fuck?

Be who I’m trying to be doesn’t involve swearing? I missed the memo on that one. Who I’m trying to be? Must have missed the memo on that one too. Why was I so upset? Why was I so angry? Could you imagine having an audience, on a blog, on the stage, wherever, and having to field questions about why you’re writing what you’re writing, or saying what you’re saying? Having to defend your position or explain further? About why you’ve chosen certain words? Good grief.
So, off with the writing hat for a moment, and on went the Coach hat. I advised, not so delicately, that although my blog was posted for public consumption, they were in no way going to be granted permission to get the intel or whatever else may have been going on with me at the time. My favourite part of this is that the events that had taken place were months prior, and at the time of sharing it, it was just that it had come to me that day to express it all the way it did, to allow my energy to shift and transform on the subject I had shared about and to move through it.

I was allowing my suffering to be of service. To empower, to express there is always away through things, and show that clarity comes once the fog clears, yet I was now having to defend it! Talk about madness.

It was at that point that I had decided I was done. I was silencing myself. Again. History was repeating itself. I was being told that I say too much, and people don’t need to know my business. I, kinda lost it. It wasn’t eloquent, or pretty, but the message was clear. I was standing my ground, and I was done with staying quiet, I was done with not sharing my truth, I was done with the individuals that had stirred up this little bit of madness in my life. Hello boundaries.

Big sigh.

It wasn’t long before I took to the page on that topic as well, and gained even more momentum. I realized that my audience wants to hear my words, and that when people react to my story, there might be something mighty funky going on with them. Fascinating isn’t it? Not a day goes by where I don’t have words on a page somewhere. Sometimes public, sometimes private. There will never be a day that goes by that I don’t share a snapshot of my soul to connect with myself and my audience.

So today, I thank you dear audience, for supporting my voice. I appreciate you.

Pens You Make My Heart Sing

You all know I’m very organized. Sorry sweeping statement, most of you probably do, and if you didn’t well know you do. I keep a very neat and tidy space everywhere I am. Everything has a place. As I’ve found myself somewhere on the spectrum of minimalism, my things are even more appropriately useful and given homes.

So you can imagine my amusement when I looked over and saw my little box of awesome.

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Many years ago, my Poppy (paternal grandfather) gave me a Cross pen, I can’t remember exactly how old I was, but we are talking at least 2 decades here, possibly pushing 3, but I remember him handing it to me and commenting that it was a mechanical pencil. Imagine our surprise when I wrote with it and it was ink! It quickly became one of my most prized possessions. It’s fine point and to this day, it is in my cheque book. Maybe that’s when the joy of pens and pencils became my thing.

I have a mad love for writing instruments. Of course me being me, I’m very particular about them. But, pens, pencils, markers, highlighters, fine tip, felt point, gel, sparkly gel, metallic gel, 9mm lead (yes 9mm, not 5 or 7), different colours, different sizes, different styles, different weights. Certain noises when they touch the paper you name it. I have a thing for them. In this little box I also have my favourite bookmarks, some clips, and sticky tabs and notes. Just because I like to have a few of those items handy. I don’t know when I got away from keeping these organized in pretty little pen holders, but this sweet box sits on my desk where I craft my book, my blog, my posts and my journey and it just brings me such pure innocent playful happiness. Much like my Poppy did

A Day of Ceremony

A Day of Ceremony

As I woke this morning, the air was cool. I could hear the rain just gently falling outside my window. It was dark still, but the energy was perfect. I decided to enjoy more time just laying there visualizing and manifesting. Also tuning in to whatever messages were necessary to receive. I saw ideas about my book, a Deer came to visit me and gave me very clear guidance about a piece of jewelry I possess, and I felt deeply rooted in my body. Then, a very specific moment in time came to me.

Three months ago on Christmas Day, my love and I were laying in bed bright and early enjoying our time together, and the calm pace of having no responsibilities that day. We were reflecting and sharing as we often do, and he told me he was proud of me. It was in relation to how I had worked on and taken care of an issue that I was going through because of some medication I was on. I’ll share that it was birth control, but my thoughts and feelings on how much it was destroying my life will come at another time, in another reflection. In short, it wasn’t good for my body, my mind or my spirit. It was turning me into a train wreck, with a splash of unstable insanity, and rage. I was difficult to be around, I was depressed and moody. I couldn’t self-regulate when I got upset about anything and I was not thinking very nice thoughts. This is no exaggeration, or embellishment. It, was, hell.

The day he told me he was proud of me was about two months after I had stopped taking it. He was proud of me for taking the action steps necessary to get my myself back to balance. He had acknowledged a whole new demeanour in me and I was moved to tears by his sharing of this with me. Our relationship had reached a whole new level of connection at that point, and continues to deepen daily. The rest of that conversation and day is ours and not for print, but the significance of it has shaped every moment since.
Today he celebrates a significant experience in his life two years ago. Again, not for me to print, but as I allow him the space and time he needs to do this, I reflect on my life two years ago. It came to me in my Facebook memories that on March 23rd, 2015 I had posted about how I had woken up and realized that everything I ever thought I wanted was nothing I wanted at all. I think of his ceremony today, and I think of mine right at the same time, and I can draw so many parallels and connections. It is moments like this that reaffirm what I know in my soul. It is moments like this, that the tears flow and cleanse me of all that no longer serves. It is moments like this, that remind me of my beautiful life path.

As I think back to that morning and realize that thought would propel me into soul alignment, I sit in overwhelm realizing how far I have come since then. The things I have changed, learned and realized. The space I have made in my life for all the blessings and magic that has arrived. The time I have spent focusing and working on me. So today, I celebrate. I celebrate who I am, the me I have re-discovered and I think I can finally say, I am proud of me too.

Surrender. Divinity. Love.

It has been quite some time since I used the word divine when describing about how I felt when I woke up in the morning. Today, of all days, that’s how I felt. Never in my history have I ever woken up on the morning of the spring ahead time change with the clocks, did I not grumble, ache, moan and complain about losing an hour.
So what makes today different? Am I different? Has a year changed me that much? Has my enthusiasm for life shifted immensely? Am I finally…dare I say it… living?
All these questions come through my mind like the Boom! Pop! Pow! in the old batman cartoons in the 80s. Then quickly fade. I love that these questions come up because my reflective side needs them. I’ve never been a fan of looking back at life. I’ve never enjoyed the process of uprooting old stories, or trauma to heal them decades later. Really, who wants to re-feel pain and suffering? Of any kind. Like paper cuts but on your soul. Yes! Let’s do this! Said no person ever. But when you’re immersed in your healing, and you work with incredible guides, practitioners, you become accustomed to knowing how to observe rather than re-feel the things as they come up, learn from them, and release. It’s beautiful really.
Lately, as amazing and joyful as my life has been, it’s also been exhausting. I’ve been covering new territory. I’ve been changing my life, one historical fable at a time. Some lessons are easier, some not so much. For me, I have to remember that this time around, I can choose how I want to feel when I look at situations and memories. I seek for the lesson. I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.
I look up in the cold, dark morning sky and that March full moon stares back at me. I’ve been sitting here in her light and glory for about a half hour. I feel charged, ready, and powerful. Something shifted in me over night. I haven’t the slightest idea what, or how to articulate it, but the energy that greeting me this morning imprinted me with the word divine. This is an epic way to wake up, but it also amuses me. You see, I wake up just as easily some days feeling like shit. Trust me. So when divinity happens, I spring out of bed and feel her glory. It isn’t easy to have the dial set to positive. It isn’t always easy to feel joyful, or choose to feel a level of okay-ness that gets us through the day. It’s taken me WORK to get here. I have rewired so much of my life, and myself that when I have those days that I feel less than divine, no matter how far down the pendulum swings, it can feel agonizing, because I KNOW how good I CAN feel.
Let’s take two days ago for example. Literally every single thing that could have gone sideways did. I don’t mean fancy awesome artsy sideways for decorative purposes. I mean, everything from dealing with bad attitudes, to demanding humans, to mix ups, melt downs and everything in between. Everything that I thought might have been wrapped up in the last couple of months, has resurfaced and is still on hold, incomplete or somehow being delayed.
This makes me irate. There is no need for things to be this difficult! But they are. Damn it. They just are sometimes. Which makes me MORE irate. Love light and butterflies turns into hate, dark and fuckerflies. Then I remember, oh right, life, curveballs, and I decide that I’m going to spend the next 48 hours binging on Netflix and reading, I’m not even going to write. Not one word. Nope. It is done. Oh and there better be a bunch of junk food waiting for me too, because I’m not doing this weekend without it.
As I settle in on Friday night, my favourite junk comfort food on deck, Kraft Dinner, hey don’t judge, it happens. My world shifts. My sweet man surprises me with the news that he’s off work the next day, which is a very rare thing for a Saturday. He suggests we go to the car show at the International Centre. I respond with a “fuck yeah!!!” Suddenly, I was back in business. Life was great and I was on top of the world again. In less than 12 hours I’d be seeing the man I love so deeply AND classic custom vehicles. My two favourite things in one place at the same time. Throw in some chocolate and voila, orgasm on command! Okay maybe not that far, but I’m going for impact here. Is it working?
So how do I go from irate and hating everything, to popping out of a bad mood like a kid in a bouncy castle? Well, we all have bad days. We all have good days. It’s in the moments of the bad days, that we need to find something that will allow us to embrace it. The way I embrace bad days know is to identify them as such and then I surrender. I had surrendered to the idea that I was going to hunker down with my blankets all weekend, take hot baths, drink tea, smudge, pray, meditate, write and just dive into my soul away from everybody and everything. I let go of all outcomes, all expectations, and I let my Friday night become what it needed to become. Although some will see my consumption of junk food as un-loving and un-self-care-ish, to me, it was a decision to live in that moment and that’s what I chose. Any choice that I make, in a loving way, rather than in a “oh I’m going to regret this way”, IS self-care. It is deeply loving to honour the call of what I felt in that moment. Within about three hours of me settling into the surrender of the dark zone, along came my little light. I don’t know why I say little, because he shines so brightly, just like the vastness of the full moon that I breathe in at this moment, while these words land on the page.
Surrender. Divinity. Love.
Surrender meant calling that day what it was, a messy chaotic mess, but also trusting that on the other side of it, maybe right in the middle of it, love would find me, and shows me, it really was going to be okay. Love of course is anything and everything. In this instance, it was a surprise from my partner. It could be an invitation to an event, to a puppy greeting me on the street, to a surprise gift in the mail, to a phone call from a favourite friend. It could be something big, it could be something small, but whatever it is, and however it shows up in your life, treasure it. Treasure every last drop of that love that has arrived, let it elevate you, hold you close, and remind you of the beauty of surrender, and let the divine shine.

Manifesting and The Game Changer

I haven’t always believed in the power of manifesting. I had seen the Law of Attraction several years ago during a group course I was attending to help work through my co-dependency issues. It was something I was deeply immersed in and identified with at the time. Back then I couldn’t be in a healthy relationship with a fruit fly let alone another human. I knew something needed to be sorted through and this was just one of the many things on my healing journey I took part in. It was the last day of the group and to end things, we watched the Law of Attraction.
It was brilliant. It was empowering, and it also sounded like a bunch of shit. I’m not kidding. I thought okay sure, I’ll go home and imagine I’m sitting in a sports car, and manifest that baby right into my life! Did I mention this was also in my deeply rooted skeptical phase of life?
As the years went on, my sharp edges softened. I was, and still am, a force to be reckoned with, but I was finally open to the idea that perhaps my way of doing things wasn’t working. My goodness, what was happening, I was becoming a different person. How could I change my beliefs? People don’t change! I could hear certain voices in my head of people who definitely were not pro-change or particularly supportive of my life. Of course when I watched this movie it was only a year or so after I had decided I was either going to change my life or die. So I guess you could say I was freshly descaled like a well used teapot, and ready to test out new waters. I was finally realigning with my truth that I had obviously forgotten some decades and past lives before.
Over the next handful of years through repeated attempts I would start and stop my practice of a gratitude journal. I’d say it was about 2011 and I’d write things I was grateful for that were already in my life, but also things that weren’t yet in my life. This is one of the ideas with the Law of Attraction, you feel and get into the vibe energetically as if the thing was already in your life. I’d write things like, I’m so grateful now that I am financially abundant. I’m so grateful now that I have a safe reliable vehicle. I’m so grateful now that I have good positive friends in my life. I’m so grateful to have a roof over my head. The list goes on.
I’d have to dig out my journals and really see when the shift took place, but I want to say in mid-late 2015 and early 2016, I started really embracing this new way of believing. Yes I know, five years after my original viewing of the movie, it’s not easy to give up your identity of being a skeptic! Some days I still weep about this. I was surrendering fully to the possibilities and this concept of manifesting. The proof was likely all around me for those five years, but I wasn’t seeing it or acknowledging it.
Act as if it’s already there. These words rang in my head on more than one occasion. So, I started to act like I was in a relationship. Don’t ask me why or how I picked that of all the things I could have picked, but that’s what I went with. So I’d imagine making dinner for two. I’d sing songs in the car, the way you do when you first fall in love with someone, or when you look at them on your first road trip and your heart skips a beat. I’d imagine coming home and seeing him sitting on the couch waiting for me and silently smiling. I’d let myself feel love when I thought of being called throughout the day just to say hello. Right down to the everyday mundane things like laundry and making the bed, I’d imagine he was there with me. I would feel in my heart that cozy feeling of being asked if I was coming to bed. I did this, over and over and over again. I’d say for a good solid six months. I always carried the love vibe with me. I carried that joy, that carefree, easy breezy energy when we have a romantic partner in our lives that shows up and changes everything forever.
Then, it happened, exactly ten months ago today, I asked myself if I was ready. I said yes, and within 24 hours, there he was.
As I sit and write this, I’m choked up for words. Trust me, there are very long pauses between these sentences, and it’s a good thing this is being delivered in written form. I’m not very pretty when I’m a blubbering mess. My dear sweet soul, arrived, we were both ready. What I didn’t know at the time, was that he too was praying for the right woman and the right relationship. What I also didn’t know, was that I would write the story about manifesting him. I do remember telling a few very close friends that I had manifested my guy. I too thought it was funny. Until it wasn’t funny, but quickly became a game-changer. It became the most beautiful creation in my life to date. He has let me be me. He has supported me. He has never laughed at my beliefs, my strength, my courage. He has empowered me, he has spoken words to me that have awakened my soul and I’m not sure he even realizes just how much.
I think of how I used to feel before he arrived, and my journey of manifestation during that time of desiring a relationship, and I realize something. The Universe, the Creator, the Law of Attraction, whatever words you want to use, did more than meet me half way. I put in deep effort, and I was given more than I ever could have dreamed of. What I know without a doubt in my mind, is that two very strong forces worked simultaneously yet separate for so long, with the support of a power so great, in so many ways, on so many levels during the years, that as soon as I said yes, it became one very strong force, now known as Us.

The Process

A little insight for you on my writing, thinking and bargaining process this morning.
Mmm coffee. Damn I love that new machine so glad I got one with a timer. How epic is it that it makes the coffee smell all the way over here, to my nose… I pull the blankets up over my head, as the wind howls. Oh my gosh. They weren’t kidding, it really is going to be freezing and -17 windchill today. I do not want to move. Heather you have to move. You have to get up, sit down at your desk and write. You have been getting repeated signs that this is what needs to happen. Yes but it’s just one day. NO it’s not one day, this is now the 4th morning in a row you have neglected this. Oh shit. Day 4? But what about just needing to take a break? The last time you took a break it became six months long. Fine.
I shuffle to the shower, wondering if showering before I start writing, or after I get into my commitment is a good idea. Turning on the lights on, waking up as the water hits my face. Starting to write the lines in my head on what will come to the page..
Oh the howling wind…. yes that’s a good start. The wind howled this morning, similar to the call of my soul. Ancestors.. no soul. Definitely soul. What about wolves. Wolves howl. How can I bring howling wolves into this chapter this morning. I continue to wash and rinse. Not remembering what I washed or rinsed.
I stand in front of my mirror that is as big as the bathroom, and I swear stares into my soul, and realize that momentum is kept up but simply taking the first step. My feet really just needed to hit the floor.
Ah, that first sip of coffee, and bite of my peanut butter on toast. I drop one of my vitamins on the floor. Damn. I wonder if eating and drinking distracts me from being able to focus on the words as well.
I know. I’ll write about writing! Oh wait, that’s the name of a page of a guy I follow on facebook, I probably shouldn’t call it that because if I do, I’ll end up with a lawsuit or something. No one has time for that. Facebook Court! I wonder if Judge Judy will be there?
Yes friends, secret audience and those who are following to see what happens next this is how it looks some days. But what I know for sure (crap, isn’t that an Oprah book?) is that the words always arrive and travel to my fingers. Whether it be electronic or handwritten, the words are not in me to be kept sacred, they are to be shared in some way, and this is one of the ways I serve.