The day after the PMDD I wake, and once the fog of my meds lifts, I have a bit of a spring in my step. I get out of bed with some energy, a hint of excitement even. It’s funny, because the feeling doesn’t feel familiar. It feels foreign. Two …
It’s quiet. They’re gone. It’s just me, a glass of pinot grigio and my laptop. I do love my kids, so very much. And yes, I often miss them when they aren’t here. But also, I so very much love my time alone. I love the quiet. No interruptions. Following …
Yesterday was a hard day. I muddled through the morning well enough, no yelling to get the boys out of the house early for my oldest son’s piano lesson before school. I had hoped to then be able to walk my other boy the 5 blocks to kindergarten but I …
I’d feel really good for awhile… go to yoga, cook healthy meals, enjoy my family. I’d think “Ya, I got this. As long as I take really good care of myself, I won’t get depressed. I’m doing what the world tells me to do: exercise, eat well, be with those …
Last week I developed a herstory of the agency I work for, Lanark County Interval House and Community Support. The agency was started by determined feminists in 1979 who were committed to finding a way to help women living with violence. It was an honour to put this together. As always in the nonprofit world, I wish I had more time to give this, it’s such an important and worthy story.
Read it here: The Herstoy of Lanark County Interval House & Community Support
About an hour after a guided meditation that led me to “buy” the word MAGIC in exchange for releasing my attachment to the expectations and opinions of others, I pull this card:
“The act of creation, whether through childbirth, writing, building, drawing or any other method, is magic indeed. This is not the magic of the Magician which pulls from the external world but the deep quiet magic of the queens who conjure things into being from the very depths of their internal universe.”
