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Yesterday (Archives)

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Someone once said, you are NOT yesterday. True but the stories we tell ourselves, the narratives that we trap ourselves in sometimes tell us that we are. Yesterday does carry some weight because it helps to define who we are today. The memories of yesterday can mold or break us, it can teach us not to do the same things over and over again and more often than not, it gives us the strength to carry on. The truth of the matter is that we cannot rewrite history and we cannot go back and change the outcome of a story that happened and is now done with. Yesterday is just that, it was and is a part of our past and except for the revisits from time to time of well-kept memories, it is nothing more than that. It is a story that is finished, it has taken its final bow or curtain call and so must we by letting it go.

This is what I tell myself on the journey I am on. I can’t keep carrying yesterday on my back or like an albatross around my neck. The load is heavy and it makes me want to stop, turn around and run back to what was familiar even if that familiarity has the power to hurt like hell. The unknown before me is terrifying and anything is better than this right? What’s in front is shrouded in fog, it is dark and foreboding and forging through it takes superhuman effort but the small negative voice within me which at times roars like a waterfall tells me that I can’t do it! Take small steps, one step at a time, you don’t have to know everything, just trust and you will get there says this other shaky voice but there are no other options, moving forward is where I need to go.

Sometimes it is the boundaries we place around ourselves that trap us, that tell us that the imaginary world we live in is so much better than what is waiting out there. Sure it was painful but there was greatness too. It was filled with things I knew and cherished, in one word, it is irreplaceable. The stories we tell ourselves are the fences we place around us. Was yesterday that great? Did we embellish it like a Christmas tree to make it sparkle and shine when the reality is a different story? Do the stories we tell ourselves distort reality and yet it is the truth as we see it or is it because we want to see it that way?

Harold R. Johnson said, “We are all story. We are the stories we are told and we are the stories we tell ourselves. To change our circumstances, we need to change our story: edit it, modify it, or completely rewrite it.”

I don’t want to completely rewrite my past. I want to take the good parts with me, the bad parts I want to thank for teaching me lessons I would not have learned otherwise and the pain? Well, I want to leave that behind where it belongs. Enough tears have been shed, enough wishing that it could have been different has not made it less so and closing the door behind me and moving on is the way to go. The next chapter is waiting and yesterday is done with.

“Forget yesterday – it has already forgotten you. Don’t sweat tomorrow – you haven’t even met. Instead, open your eyes and heart to a truly precious gift – today.” Steve Maraboli

Here’s to yesterday. You taught me lessons I didn’t want to learn but had to accept. You gave me memories I will forever treasure. You made me who I am today and for that I will forever be thankful.

Today is a blank slate.

Have an amazing day.

The Storytellers

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“We are all unreliable narrators, not just in the way we tell our stories to others, but how we tell them to ourselves.” Deb Caletti

We love telling stories don’t we? I think our whole existence is based on telling stories. We add and subtract as we see fit and sometimes or rather more often than not we blow it out of proportion to fit the narrative. The narrative that we see as our reality.

“The stories we tell ourselves shape our lives. They shape who we believe we are, and this belief translates into who we become.” John Assaraf

Something happens and off we go overthinking and putting a story together in our minds. “I’m not good enough,” comes to mind if there has been a rejection of some kind or if something doesn’t go exactly like we want. It could also be someone we like but who turned us down but the reality is that this person is not what we need and is not good for us but we drum up this story about how great he/she is and before you know it, we’ve got the dream person staring back at us but in reality they are far from it. We cling to the stories we tell ourselves but it doesn’t stop there. It morphs and changes shape until that “not being good enough” transforms into something we don’t recognize anymore. If that isn’t bad enough, we look for different angles to make it as bad as possible until there’s no climbing out of the hole YOU dug for yourself. Now, you’re facing a huge problem but one of your own making.

Yes folks, some of us are great storytellers and let’s add doomsday soothsayers to that and you’ve got the picture. The problem is we “buy” the stories we tell and we do put some doozies out there that could earn us the Nobel Prize if there is one for such storytelling!

“The stories we tell ourselves shape our reality. If you want to change your life, change the narrative you’ve believed up to this point.” Unknown

Tell yourself YOU are good enough. YOU can change the narrative. YOU can tell better stories than of the doomsday variety. YOU are capable and YOU can take whatever life throws at you and come out the winner. YOU, my friend, have it in you to come out with the best story possible. Make it your very best but you’ve got to change the narrative. Take “I can’t” and “It’s not possible” to “I can” and “I’m going to do it!” I keep telling myself that as well.

“The only thing keeping you from what you want is the story you keep telling yourself about why you don’t have it.” Tony Robbins

Let’s stop embellishing and making up stories, ones that if given the chance will bring us down and keep us there. Let’s change them to the positive variety, the kind that will get us on the way and into something better. Reality is sometimes just that, you take what is handed to you and work to make it your best reality without all the extra frills. You know what I mean.

LET’S DO THIS! Let’s change the stories we tell ourselves from that of the downtrodden to flying high! WE CAN DO THIS!

Have an amazing day.

On the Way

A Series on Getting Back on Track

Alice asked the Cheshire Cat, who was sitting in a tree. ”What road do I take?” The cat asked, “Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know,” Alice answered.

“Then,” said the cat, “it really doesn’t matter, does it?”

“So long as I get SOMEWHERE,” Alice added.

“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.”

I had taken the all important step a few days ago. Standing on that cliff top I jumped hoping to fly because the voice in my head kept saying, “Don’t be afraid of falling, you can’t stay, you need to go. You can’t be where you are and anywhere is better than where you’re at now.” I was staring at a brick wall that refused to give way no matter how hard I pushed. But then again, there is nothing to be had from drinking from an empty cup. The survival mode kicked in and I knew (I) not someone else, had to take the reins of my own life and do something, anything. I needed to GO!

Go within yourself, I heard it scream. It is within myself that I have found the strength in times past. When the murder of my mum took place, I screamed, “I can’t! I am filled with rage and anger. I want to kill!” No, the miraculous recovery and the coming to terms did not take place overnight. Yes, I wore sackcloth and ashes for a long time and my feet stopped moving. My life had come to a standstill. A year later I was still shaking my fist at the wind until a tiny voice brought me back to earth. It was the voice of my six or maybe five year old at the time, I am bad with time, who said, “Grandma is in heaven mommy.” I had forgotten about him in my day to day existence of wanting revenge and vengeance. I knew, I knew that I was holding on to something or someone I couldn’t bring back. My mom was gone, her time on earth was short for whatever the reason. I was still hanging on and I needed to let GO! Leaving the sadness, anger, heartache and fear behind was hard, very very hard but the choices were simple or so it seemed. GO or STAY and fight a losing battle. So I started moving. A short while later, I took the leap off that cliff. Did I fly? No, it took small steps, very small steps but eventually I did make it out of my misery. The day I said, RIP mom was when I realized I had arrived. I felt my wings take flight again.

Divorce came next. It started with his infidelity but perhaps it started long before that. Tragedy has a tendency to destroy if you let it and I did. I was so busy caught up in wanting revenge for my mom’s murder that I stopped living. Nothing existed but that tiny world of being consumed with hate towards someone I didn’t know, hadn’t seen but who had turned into a giant because I had given her that power. Instead of relegating her to where she belonged because she had taken a life, I gave her power over my life just as when she stood over my mother and took hers. I had hit rock bottom. It hurt and it hit hard. This time around it took longer. As usual, blame steps in wearing bells and wanting to pin the blame tag on someone. The truth of the matter is perhaps both parties were to blame. That said, I am not saying that infidelity is alright. Absolutely not! When one cheats or makes the choice to cheat, it is either temptation has taken over or they don’t care about the consequences and you as the significant other do not matter anymore. Whatever the case maybe, I was back on the cliff top, and I knew I had to jump and GO! If I stayed, I would be crawling for the rest of my life because my wings had been clipped again. I took off but unfortunately I landed with a thud! Those wings needed time to grow back and I had to do the work. It seemed so unfair. Again there was no miraculous recovery. I went deep within myself and I did some drastic rebuilding. My self-esteem, my confidence and my belief system had all taken a beating and that is putting it mildly. No more crying 24/7, no more letting go of myself and my looks had suffered too. Small steps I told myself, some days I didn’t see the progress but I kept on until one day I realized that my wings were sprouting again.

That was a few years back. As humans we tend to make the same mistakes over and over again. So here I am back to square one again. Like Alice, I don’t know where I want to go just so long as I get myself away from here. But as the cat said, you just have to keep walking to get to that SOMEWHERE. Is that what I want? Just somewhere? Perhaps I’ve been doing it all wrong. I don’t want to end up just somewhere because I would be back here again at some later point in time. I want a destination. This time around just an overhaul isn’t going to do it. I need to change my mindset. I needed to keep going for as long as it takes but I need to put in the work along the way as well. I know I will have setbacks and fear, my biggest enemy, will make me stumble but if I keep going, one step at a time I might just get to where I need to be. ”It is going to be a long journey so be prepared” says that little voice. ”You’ll want to run back to where you began” but that ship has sailed and scaling back up the cliff is a no go so I have to keep going on the path I’ve chosen.

How long will it take? I don’t know and that is the scary part. I also know deep within that when I arrive I’ll be ready to fly again.

“Take a leap of faith. You will either land somewhere new or learn to fly.” Kandyse McClure

Update: I started this blog a year ago and I’ve been on this journey of self-recovery ever since. I’ve made progress but there is still a long ways to go. Some days I take 10 steps back and with others I see progress. It is slow going but nothing comes easy and I understand that I need to keep moving and to keep working on myself to get to the other side of here, wherever that is, but I know deep within that there is a “better” out there and I will get there someday just so long as I keep moving, one step at a time.

Have an amazing day.

500 Likes!

I received this message from WordPress this morning and it put a great big smile on my face.

Writing is my first love. I started writing when I was 16 and the article made the front cover of a national magazine. I was over the moon. Since then, I have written and published thousands of articles.

It is my go-to to get my feelings down on paper and it helps to slay the stress monster as well. I just love writing about anything that comes to mind but mostly about injustice in today’s world and about life as a whole.

I want to thank all the people here who read and like my articles. It is appreciated. I am getting to know some of you better through your writings and there are some fantastic writers, poets, romantics and the like here. Thank you all.

May you have a Very Merry Christmas!

The Hard Things

Most of us cringe at the thought of doing the hard things. Be it a break-up, walking away, losing a job and letting go of things that no longer serve us, it is an exceptionally hard thing to do. It is not something we look forward to because it means taking the bull by the horns and waging war on what seems to be an impossible task at first. Given time, patience, perseverance and a hard-headed look at what needs to be done to get to the other side, we find it is doable but not easy.

Easy is not what life is about. If anything, easy is not in its vocabulary. It seems at times that “living” is about going through the hard stuff. Sometimes one and sometimes a string of unsolvable and often times impossible situations but you and I know that it is those hard times and how you deal with it that brings out the strength in you. Sure, it would be easier if we didn’t have to deal with them but when has that stopped life from throwing it our way?

Where would we be without them? Probably having a great time without having to walk through the minefield of the hard stuff all equipped and designed to bring you down to your knees if you make a false move. There is no right or wrong way of going about it, it is trial and error and an undying resilience to take what is handed to you and to make it work for you. We’ve all made those false moves where we’ve crashed and burned and just when you think there is nothing left to do except to pick up the pieces and make the most of it, there is light at the end of the dark tunnel. There is that open door that beckons because as you know when one door closes, another one opens but it is human nature or at least it is mine to look past it and back at the one that has closed and is no longer available.

“Hard things are hard because there are no easy answers or recipes. They are hard because your emotions are at odds with your logic. They are hard because you don’t know the answer and you cannot ask for help without showing weakness.” Ben Horowitz

The hard stuff has kept me captive for longer than I want to admit. Truth is, I don’t do “HARD” well. Holding on is my nemesis, letting go of things that no longer serve me is harder still and moving on, well that is an impossible task at times. I hold on hoping that changes will come my way but it never does. Things happen for a reason, people are the way they are because they are wired that way and looking and hoping is not going to change things. However, whatever life throws your way, there is a lesson in there somewhere but it is hard to see when it first hits you. I think we fail miserably at times because we walk in circles, bang our heads on that closed door and refuse to move on until we are drained of energy and there is nothing else to do but to walk through that open door. Human nature at its best? I think so.

We are fully capable and have the strength within to meet the hard stuff head on and to tame it if necessary. It is the fear of the unknown in sync with the weakness within that works hand-in-hand to stop us in our tracks, makes us tremble where we stand as we whisper, I can’t. You and I have had our baptism by fire in one form or another, of this I am sure. The hard thing is just one more obstacle to overcome, nothing more, nothing less. We tend to make it more than what it is. Life is a never-ending circle of challenges in the form of “hard things” to overcome. It is mixed in with the good stuff but it is the hard stuff that brings forth the real you. Your strength, your power and most of all your ability to slay it where it stands takes courage, growth and an attitude of never giving up which will put the “hard stuff” in its place. Who knows if shown the door more often than not, it might decide to stay away. We can hope can’t we?

“I see your fear, and it’s big. I also see your courage, and it’s bigger. We can do hard things.” Glennon Doyle

Have an amazing day.

SUNDAYS

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I woke up early this morning not of my own free will but because Chachi, the cat, wasn’t having it any other way. He had places to go and the “human” had no choice in the matter but to follow.

Dragging myself out of the thick and comfy blankets I was under was really hard. Looking at him with blurry, sleep-filled eyes I noticed he was sitting on the bedside table, his cute face puffed up and his tail thumping. It was a look of impatience and I have seen that look many times before. At times, I think he’s too spoiled for his own good but at other times I embrace it with my whole being. He’s my buddy, my shadow, a mini “me” in a fur coat and my rock when times get tough. Sometimes I think he knows all of this and more hence his power to wield and demand as he sees fit!

A sudden high-shrilled meow pierces the air and it sounds just like mommy! “C’mon mom, let’s move it!” he says as he moves to the door with a backward glance in my direction. Slipping my feet into fur-lined slippers, I move as he wants me to but very very slowly. My day is having a hard time catching up with me.

Once the door is opened, I head to the bathroom but Mr. Impatient lets out a huge sigh and a muffled whatever it means in cat language and waits outside the door giving me this, “God Almighty, can we MOVE it please!” look. There are no snuggles and wet kisses this morning. He’s about himself and what he wants but come to think of it, it is that way most days. I am learning that there is no teaching a cat, just when you think you’ve got them trained, they’ll turn around and show you how wrong you are. It must be all that cuteness that comes in a fur package and those large adoring eyes. He’s got me whipped!

After what seems like minutes to me and I’m sure “hours” to Mr. Impatient, we head down the stairs. He takes off like a bullet and heads to his window seat in the kitchen and peers curiously out the window. It is still dark and there is a strong wind blowing which is sending the last of the leaves hurtling to the ground and it has Chachi’s full attention. That’s what I call, “Action TV!” he says and plops down on the cushion and goes into a trance-like state forgetting the “human” standing behind him. All is right in his world for now.

I head on back upstairs with a hot, steaming cup of coffee and breakfast in hand. Sundays are for relaxing so I turn on the TV, get comfortable in bed and ready to find out what is going on in the world. The news today seems to be full of President Elect Trump and his new cabinet in the making. The names and faces are familiar and there seems to be a common element in all of his picks. Either they are criminals waiting to be charged or they have no experience or qualifications for the positions they are being picked for. All fine and good because Trump has none either so that works perfectly fine. So did I mention that the common link is their loyalty and almost child-like adoration of the man in question? Didn’t Hitler have the same kind of adoration? Just saying.

Moving on….

Just then, Chachi walks back into the room and looks at me with confusion as if to say, “Where did you go?” Sundays are for relaxation BUT mine begins and ends with my little love, Chachi. Time to shake it up a little? I’m still waiting for Mr. Right to walk in but he’s taking all the wrong turns so it will be a while yet before he shows up. Until then, the little furball has my full attention.

“Sunday is a good day to save the world in one’s pyjamas.” Adrienne Posey

HAVE AN AMAZING DAY!

Nature’s Way

“Adapt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

It was wildly windy yesterday but since we had a respite from two days of non-stop rain, I decided I would venture out and see what nature had in store for me.

Approaching my usual haunt, I noticed that I was all alone with wide open spaces before me. The sky was dotted with angry grey-tinged clouds and they seemed to be gathering force, perhaps for another deluge or two. It was in the weather forecast afterall.

I couldn’t take my usual route because it was covered in mud so I kept on the narrow roadway heading to the top of the hill. I noticed that even the birds had taken cover from whatever Mother Nature had in store for us. Not a soul and no animal or bird was out there but I liked it that way. However, I would have liked a rabbit or two for company but not today. The wind was strong as it whooshed past my head and it wasn’t whispering softly as it usually does.

Suddenly I noticed something move in the distance. I stopped and watched as it glided gracefully with the wind. As it got closer, I noticed that it was playing along with the wind, doing a dance of its own. I thought it was a hawk at first but it was much bigger than any hawk I had ever seen and its underbelly was tinged in orange. Was it an owl? Do they fly like that? I had always thought they were nocturnal creatures but I’ve been surprised before. I stood and watched as it got closer with every gust of wind. Right before it got above me, I decided to move and fast! Not sure why but I just did and the unidentified creature took off in the opposite direction.

The wind had picked up speed as I got to the top of the hill and it was playing havoc with my hair whipping it around my face. I looked around and noticed that today my beloved fields were cloaked differently. The trees were showing bald spots where once it had been a lush green and the farmers had harvested all their crops and in its place planted something that was sprouting green. Not sure what but it didn’t matter. They knew what they were doing. Then it dawned on me that I loved the fields in whatever color it chooses to wear. I’ve seen it dressed in white, seen it bright with flowers, golden when it is turning colder and today dressed in grey with its skirt billowing from the wind and that too seemed to suit it just as well.

Stopping at the top of the hill to take in the scene before me, I noticed the wind had picked up speed so I turned around to make my way home and just then I felt the wind pushing me forward and not too kindly either. It seemed to be saying, “C’mon get moving! I’ve got work to do.”

I walked home with a smile on my face, the wind on my back and a new found respect for nature. It has it all planned and execution of that plan is never a problem. Winter will get here when it is good and ready but first fall needs to make one last stand. Golden suits me just fine as well.

This Little Light

Waking up this morning I could hear the sound of rain on the rooftops and it sounded soothing to my ears. As I stretched in bed, I felt a warmth to my side. Then I heard soft purring and a pair of green eyes looking up at me. As our eyes touched, my little love let out a sound which sounded almost like a purr. Chachi was in his wide-awake mode and happy with the world and so was I, for the moment at least.

I whisper, “Good morning baby,” and pull him closer to me. The purring picks up in intensity and has a rhythm all its own. His fur feels soft and cuddly warm and the sideways glance he throws in my direction says more than words can say and melts my heart. Chachi walked into my life almost seven years ago and found his niche by my side and he is here to stay.

How did it happen? I don’t know. Pets have a way of doing that and the light they bring is irreplaceable. I call him my shadow. Lately, he has taken to keeping pace with me. If I’m in the kitchen, he’s there watching my every move. If I’m in the cellar, he’s right there stretched out on the floor and pretending like he’s minding his own business but in reality minding mine. Most days, I talk to him about my day and he yawns not out of boredom but more like, “Tell me more.” At least, I hope that’s what it is. When I leave the house, he stares and I can tell that this part is not the favourite part of the day for him. I kiss his forehead telling him to be a good boy and when I walk back in, he greets me with a happy dance.

Some days when I’m sad, I hold him close and my heart takes off soaring. When I need cheering up, he walks up to me with his tattered beyond repair toy bird in his mouth and throws it at my feet waiting for the “Good Boy!” pat on his forehead. Most days, we are each other’s best buddy. Lately, we’ve got a new routine, a workout routine that is. Once I start the music and start moving, he walks in and joins in. Sometimes he tries to climb up one leg. The goal is to get as many kisses as possible, who cares about working out! After he has had enough, he climbs on the bed and watches me till I finish.

“Time spent with cats is never wasted.” Sigmund Freud

The light I speak of is the unspoken bond between us. A beautiful iridescent light that glows with love, respect and lots of cuddling. Of course, cats have their own way of showing love but it is love nonetheless. Instead of giving me a kiss on the mouth or on the nose, he brushes past and heads for the forehead and there he plants one right in the middle. A kiss so light and airy that my breath catches in my throat and a sigh escapes softly from my being. A lover couldn’t have done any better. We don’t speak the same language but we share a universal one, the language of love. The day is filled with tiny interludes of this nature and often it makes me feel like I’m dancing and twirling on my toes. Often I mumble, “Houston, I think we have a problem. I’m in love!”

I am thankful for this four-legged fur ball of a being who walked into my life and has taken permanent residency there and I wouldn’t have it any other way!

“What greater gift than the love of a cat.” Charles Dickens

Life is Fragile

“When you see how fragile and delicate life can be, all else fades into the background.” Jenna Morasca

I got a call from a friend yesterday. She told me that she had been in the hospital for a week. All is well with her but it was a scary experience. It brought home the fact that life in all its beauty is still as fragile as can be.

A year and a half ago, I lost someone very close to me. We never thought that life with all its idiosyncrasies would throw a curveball. One so large and unexpected that when all was said and done, only one of us would be left standing to carry on.

The walk in the snow-covered world was exhilarating. Everything was covered in white and the trees looked like pictures out of a postcard. It also brought back times when we had taken those walks together. The times when snowball fights and laughter reigned supreme. Little did we know then that life as we knew it was about to change forever.

“You never think the last time is the last time. You think that there will be more. You think you have forever. But then life can quickly remind you, you don’t” Grey’s Anatomy

What if we knew that life was short? What then? Would we try to cram as much living as we can into today? Perhaps knowing just how fragile life is should make us stop and take notice, to stop procrastinating and to do and say the things we need to say before it is too late. I wish I had.

Today as I approach the top of the hill, I remember that snow-filled day as you said, “I want a selfie with the both of us in it.” We were laughing in the picture. Now I realize that there will be no more pictures, no more memories to be made and no more laughter to be shared. You’ve gone on a different journey.

I’ve said many things to you since you’ve been gone. Nothing seems enough, perhaps one day it will be and memories of you will fade and I will be at peace. Here are more of the same, more of what I wished I had said when you were here.

Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for all the times we shared. Thank you for showing me just how much love you could squeeze into that little amount of time. Thank you for showing me that I was an important part of your life. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Life is fragile. All it takes is one wrong move, one unexpected turn of events and like a candle in the wind, it can be snuffed out never to be relit again. Forever is not in its vocabulary and neither is invincible. Knowing that we should make time for the important things in life, free up space by letting go of the unimportant ones and take the time to say and do the things you need to do before it is too late.

Yesterday

This is what I tell myself on the journey I am on. I can’t keep carrying yesterday on my back or like an albatross around my neck. The load is heavy and it makes me want to stop, turn around and run back to what was familiar even if that familiarity has the power to hurt like hell. The unknown before me is terrifying and anything is better than this right? What’s before is shrouded in fog, it is dark and foreboding and forging through it takes superhuman effort but the small negative voice within me which at times roars like a waterfall tells me that I can’t do it! Take small steps, one step at a time, you don’t have to know everything, just trust and you will get there says this other shaky voice but there are no other options, moving forward is where I need to go.

“Forget yesterday – it has already forgotten you. Don’t sweat tomorrow – you haven’t even met. Instead, open your eyes and heart to a truly precious gift – today.” Steve Maraboli

Today is a blank slate.