Power Cut

It seems like a silly thing but a good haircut can make all the difference sometimes. In fact, most women I know end up getting a haircut at the major junctions in their lives – after a break up, after a wedding, after graduation, when looking for a job, after having a baby. So what is so important about a haircut? I suppose part of it is the “look good, feel better” concept but, really, it’s more symbolic than that. The new cut represents the changes you’re making in your life. There is a sense of relief as the weight of the hair is cut off. It is an opportunity to start fresh by letting go of the old and embracing a new future.

So last night I took scissors in hand and cut my hair. For me, the change had a lot do with why I had been letting my hair grow in the first place – none of the reasons being the right ones. So pulling out the scissors was a way of taking the control back.

The cut itself isn’t perfect, of course, but it gave me back a sense of strength and control that had been slipping away every time I looked in the mirror. Now I look like me again. My outside matches my inside – not perfect but taking shape.

Leap of Faith

Have you ever driven in the fog? It is a disconcerting feeling because suddenly the world around you disappears and you feel completely alone. Even when you’re in familiar surroundings you can become disoriented and lose your way. Eventually, though, you make it through and your path becomes clear again. You discover that you’re not alone and that the things that seemed out of reach are right there in front of you.

That is the kind of week I had. I started Monday morning in the fog – lost, scared and alone. As the day progressed something unexpected happened. Like hearing other voices calling out to me in the fog, I started to receive positive feedback, encouragement and support. I even got a few job offers. I realized that I wasn’t alone in the fog and I wasn’t scared anymore.

I went from feeling disappointment to acceptance to, finally, embracing the situation as an opportunity to make some positive changes in my career. Once I had reached that point, the situation took another unexpected turn. I stepped out of the fog and the path in front of me became visible again. I’ve been given the opportunity to reinvent myself with a position tailor made for me and I don’t have to leave my familiar surroundings.

Sometimes when you’re in the fog it feels like you are moving forward when in reality you’re going in circles. Sometimes the opposite is true and when you feel like you’re moving backwards you’re really moving closer to the destination. That was the case with my situation. I took a leap of faith and trusted that the steps I was taking would lead me forward even though I couldn’t see the way.

So even though the path itself didn’t really change, the perspective I gained from coming through the fog has changed everything. I have no doubt that the next few months be difficult but I’m excited to face the new challenges that lay ahead.

Seeds of Change

I think I know how Jack felt holding those beans in his hand and wondering if they were really magic or if he had been the worst kind of fool. I think we all have momets like that. Moments where we hold the seeds of our future in our hands and wonder what they will really grow into.

The thing with seeds, just like potential, is that they don't do anything until you plant them. Sometimes they don't grow at all. Sometimes they grow into a weak plant that never produces fruit. And sometimes they grow into a magnificent beanstalk.

Today I planted a seed and I have no idea what it will do. Maybe I've planted the seed for a positive change. Or maybe I've just planted the seed of doubt. Now all I can really do is wait and see what it grows into.

Going for Gold

In junior high I was on the track team and I could run like nobody’s business; for 100 meters, at least. It was like opening a tap and letting the water come gushing out. Every fear, all of my anger could get thrown into that short burst of energy. In the end I felt exhausted and exhilarated all at the same time.

I used to beat myself up because I was a sprinter instead of a distance runner. I compared myself to my sister and criticized myself for my lack of stamina. I saw it as some kind of character flaw. Now I’m looking at things from a different perspective. The fact that my race was only 100 meters allowed me to put all of myself into it every time and find reserves I didn’t know I had by pushing myself to the breaking point. Then when it became too much to physically bear, it was over. I was free to rebuild my strength, work on my technique and prepare for the next race.

Since I started this writing challenge I've been comparing myself to my friends and beating myself up over the fact that I can't sustain my writing for long stretches at a time. I finally saw today that that is a mistake. We all have a process and, like our personalities, they’re all very different. The trick is discovering and accepting my process instead of comparing it to everyone else’s.

How can I find the best way to use my process to get the best results? I need to work with my natural rhythm instead of fighting it. I’m not a distance writer any more than I was a disctance runner and that's ok. Each sprint takes me closer to the gold. By writing in short bursts, I allow myself to dig deep, get to the emotions, keep the spirit of the scene real and believable because I’m living each scene as I’m writing it. To do that takes a huge amount of energy. Energy that needs to be rebuilt before I can move on to the next scene.

This month hasn't been easy and strangely this last week is turning out to be one of the hardest. In the homestretch of a sprint, I always managed to find some hidden strength to get me to the finish line. This month is no different. Discovering, and accepting, my writing process is that hidden stregth that I needed.

Pass the Salt

A few years ago I switched to natural peanut butter. It was not an easy transition because, at first, I found it dry and flavourless. In our culture, we rely very heavily on salt. Far too often, instead of noticing the natural flavours of food we are only interested in tasting the salt.

Love, is a lot like that. We have become so dependent on the fantasy that we’ve lost the taste for the real thing. Have we let our fantasy of love drown out the real experience? Is that what we’re really mourning when we end a relationship? Are we mourning the loss of the other person or are we mourning the loss of the fantasy we have built in our heads?

Lately, I have this nagging doubt that I have thrown away something special simply because it wasn’t quite living up to the fantasy. But why does love have to follow the prescribed path that society has chosen? We generalize about human behaviour and read meanings into certain actions – or lack of action – which may not be based in any truth. We can never truly know another person, so why do we presume to think that we know what their actions mean? Every relationship, like the people who create it, is unique. By judging our relationships on generalizations, are we limiting ourselves to a stunted experience? Are we once again we depending on the salt for the flavour instead of the reality?

I don’t advocate a total elimination of salt from your life. In fact, the human body needs a certain amount to survive. A little salt can serve to enhance the natural flavour but too much drowns it out completely. I’ve learned to like the taste of the natural peanut butter but sometimes I still need to add a pinch of salt. I hope that I can learn to better appreciate the natural flavours of love but I think it’s human nature to need a little fantasy once in a while.

In Repair

Have you ever listened to a song that you’ve heard a hundred times and suddenly felt like you're hearing it for the first time?

“I am in repair. I’m not together but I’m getting there”.

Those are the lyrics to a John Mayer song and they seem to be speaking about me. Lately, life has been a bit of a struggle but in the last week I feel like there has been a shift. Sunday was the first day of the 50,000 word challenge and I’ve thrown myself into it with an enthusiasm that I haven’t had in years. This has inspired me to push myself other areas as well. I have worked out every morning this week, which I haven’t done in months. I’ve even been washing the dishes every day and anyone who knows me well knows what a telling indicator that is of my mental health.

The writing itself is not going well. To be honest, the book is a load of crap at this point. I hate the characters and the plot and am only writing this story for lack of a more inspired idea but I’m trying to take the advice of the NaNoWriMo organizers to heart and just keep writing. Hopefully at some point in the next few weeks the words will take on a life of their own and the characters and plot will develop into something worth keeping.

Really, writing is not that different from life. Sometimes you just need to keep plodding on even when it seems like a load of crap and trust that at some point things will change for the better. Sub-plots and new characters that you never anticipated will suddenly find their way into your story. So I’ve started a new chapter in my story and I’m not sure what’s going to happen next but I’m looking forward to finding out.

Lost

Six months ago I was a happy, confident woman who felt hopeful about the future, inspired and creative, sure of whom I was and the path I wanted to be on. Where did that person go? Sometime in those six months, I lost myself.

For the last few weeks I have been desperately searching for a glimpse of that missing girl. I’ve read books, I’ve done surveys. I even bought O Magazine because this month’s issue was “Who are you meant to be? A step-by-step guide to finding (and fulfilling) you life’s purpose.” Not surprisingly, Oprah didn’t have the answers either.

What did surprise me in all of my searching and survey-taking was how consistent my results were; the same themes kept repeating themselves. These are the things I know: I need to be creative in some form or another. I love knowledge of any kind and learning, just for the sake of learning. People are fascinating; how we are similar, how we are different, how we are all connected. I crave love and security. I feel joy when I sing. Baking soothes my soul. I need to write.

That seems like quite a bit, actually, so maybe I’m not really lost. Maybe I just got a bit disoriented and started moving in the wrong direction. So now I need to turn myself back in the right direction and take the next step. What's the next step?

I’ve signed up for a writing challenge to write a novel in November. The idea of writing 50,000 words in 30 days is more than a little daunting, especially since I still don’t know what I’m going to write about. But the concept of the challenge is to let go of the need for perfection. Once you give yourself permission to write crap, you’re more likely to write something worth reading. Either way, I think this will be a good way to get back on my path.

Harvest Time

Fall makes me want to bake, pies especially. I want to make roast chicken dinners with all the fixings and apple pie for desert. I want to bake homemade bread. I want to cook pots and pots of soup. I want to make jam and applesauce. I want to create hearty meals for my family.

But I don’t have a family to cook for. I don’t even have any fruits and vegetables to harvest and I don’t know how to bake bread. I’m a modern woman with a house, a car and a career. I’ve done it all on my own with no husband which is a source of pride because I’ve often been labelled as “dependant.” And yet...there it is; this yearning. So where does it come from?

For generations, the women in my family have harvested the fruits and vegetables they’ve grown. Waste was the ultimate sin. Each season brought a new crop and a new opportunity to create something wonderful. Cooking is an expression of creativity. To take the same basic ingredients and turn them into a delicious meal is magical. And what they created wasn’t just food, it was memories and love. Strawberry tarts mean spring is here, it’s graduation time! A pot of soup is a pot of comfort, a warm hug from the inside out. So I’ve come to realize that this yearning comes from a connection to the women who came before me, from a desire to express my creativity and something else; something more basic and yet more important. It’s very simple: Food = Love.

Love is like those fruits and vegetables. It needs to be harvested and something magical created with it. I have a lot of love to give and I’ve been wasting my crop. I share it with my friends, my siblings and my parents but, until recently, I’ve avoided sharing that love with a partner. Choosing not to harvest that love and share it with someone special has left me unsatisfied. I’ve started to harvest that fruit but, just like cooking, every recipe is not a keeper. Fortunately, love is a crop that ripens often. So I’m going to take some time to let the fruit ripen again and then I guess I’ll try a new recipe.

Ghosts

The past has an interesting way of coming back to haunt you when you least expect it. And yet...I have to wonder if the timing isn't more than just mere coincidence. Lately, a lot of so-called ancient history has been coming to the surface. Just because they were forgotten (well, almost forgotten) doesn't mean the wounds were healed. Scar tissue had formed around them to protect me from the pain but the wounds were still there.

Being in a new relationship has naturally brought up some of these old wounds. This week though, things got a lot spookier. It hasn't just been memories that have come to the surface; the actual ghost who inflicted many of these wounds has reappeared after a decade with an apology. I had convinced myself that I didn't need it but here it is anyway; the words I never expected to hear: I'm sorry.

The fact that it has come now when I am in the midst of an identity crisis brought on, in part by the resurfacing memories of this past pain, must be meaningful. Where does it leave me? I'm not sure but hopefully I'm one step closer to living my life for myself instead of trying to prove someone else wrong.

Is the Honeymoon Over?

When we would visit my grandma in the last few years of her life she used to tell the same stories, over and over again - sometimes within the same visit. She wasn't struggling with her memory, she just didn't have anything new to talk about. She rarely left the house anymore and her hearing and eyesight weren't good anymore so she didn't listen to the radio, watch TV or read anymore and her physical health prevented her from doing any of her old hobbies. Visitors had become a burden instead of a joy. She was frustrated at having little to contribute so she would recycle the same stories in a desperate attempt to entertain us. Her life had become stagnant.

Relationships run the same risk. True, most relationships start out with that honeymoon stage- where the two of you hole up together and nothing and no-one else is really as important or interesting as that new person. What a fun stage that is but it doesn't last forever. If you don't get past the "honeymoon" and venture out into the world together then you run the risk of letting things get stagnant.

Life can't exist in a vacuum; neither can relationships. How much can you really learn about a person if you don't see them in the real world? How they interact with other people? How they react to certain events? How do they see the world around them? A little outside stimuli can prompt some pretty interesting conversations.

The world has a habit of forcing its way in whether you want it to or not. You might as well invite it in - then you can do it on your own terms. Why miss out on a great opportunity to learn and grow together? Isn't that the point?

Ripping Off the Band-Aid

I'm not the type of person who rips the band-aid off in one quick motion. I couldn't even bring myselft to wax a second strip off my legs. While I can see the wisdom of getting the pain over with quickly, I would rather avoid it completely - or at least ease into it.

When it comes to communication, I'm not really any different. It is my natural instinct to avoid confrontation with the key people in my life. I usually overlook any negative emotions that come up because I don't want to rock the boat. As it turns out, this is not a particularly effective approach to communication, in the long run. What starts out as something small has a tendency to fester and grow into something much larger than it should be.

It has often seemed to dangerous to express any negative feedback or emotions. Lately, I've been pushed out of my comfort zone, both personally and professionally. It has not come easy to me, in fact, I would rather have run for the hills than face these situations but luckily the other people involved didn't let me off the hook. They prodded me and coaxed me into being honest about my feelings and they did the same.

Not only did I survive these uncomfortable experiences but I'm now grateful that I wasn't allowed to take the easy route of avoidance. Every one of those experiences has allowed my relationship to grow into something stronger and more positive than it was before. I see now that by avoiding the confrontation all of these years I have been dishonest in my relationships. I claim that I want a partnership with someone else but how do I expect that to happen if I can't show him the respect of being honest about my feelings - good and bad?

So it comes down to this: am I willing to rip the band-aid off? As difficult as it is, yes. So here it goes - deep breath - 1...2...3...go!

Epiphanies

It was my birthday last week. For me, birthdays are the point at which I look back on the year and reflect and sometimes even make resolutions, not New Year's. This year has been quite different than most. It has been a year of change, which is not something I generally enjoy. Despite the fact that all of this change has been difficult I feel that this has been one of the most important years of my life.

The journey began with last year's birthday reflections. I had no choice but to admit to myself how unhappy I was with my life. My job had taken over and was slowly killing me. That probably sounds melodramatic but I was neglecting myself and my health was beginning to truly suffer. I wasn't able to look at anything with a realistic perspective and felt terrified, desperate and trapped. It took two more months to finally take action and I was only able to do that once the doctor stepped in as the voice of reason.

Initially, going on stress leave made me feel like a failure. Now I think it was the best decision I've ever made. Stepping out of that situation for 6 weeks allowed me to step back and see my life with a little distance. Up until then, I blamed a lot of other people for the way my life had turned out. I now realize my own role in the situation. Yes, there were many times when other people treated me badly. However, what I came to understand is that it's up to me to set limits on what treatment I will accept. I had gotten to such a low point where I didn't believe that I deserved to be treated with respect and consideration so I didn't demand it.

It was at that point that I had my real epiphany: I had been using my job as an excuse to hide from my life. Once I was able to take responsibility for my role in my work situation I started to look at my entire life with new eyes.

I had claimed for years that I didn't care if I was single for the rest of my life. In one sense that's true, I feel that I'm finally at a point where I like myself and I don't need anyone else to fill in the gaps. But when I'm brutally honest I know that I don't want to spend my life alone. I don't need someone else, but I want someone else to share my life with. I had used being busy with work as the excuse for not meeting someone but in reality I had purposely avoided all situations that could possibly have led me to meeting someone.

I have begun dating again. In fact, I've dated more in the last 9 months than I ever have in my life. It has been a tumultuous journey, to say the least, and I'm sure that it will continue to be. I'll admit that I have moments of impatience with the process. Now that I've finally made the decision to rejoin the world and look for love I would like it to be here right now. After years of disuse, my dating skills are still a little rusty so I guess I should give myself time. I'm trying to remind myself that love doesn't have a schedule or an expiry date. Love will come when it's supposed to. I just need to be sure that I am taking the proper care of myself so that I'm ready for it when it does.

Loves Me, Loves Me Not

Last week I watched two of my friends declare their love and commitment to each other. It was a beautiful sight because the genuine love they feel for each other was obvious. There are some weddings that make me wonder why the couple is even getting married. They seem so miserable together which makes me ask why does anyone get married? Is it really possible to stay in love with the same person forever? Is love even what marriage is really about? Watching Sean and Silvy reminded me that love, passion, friendship, commitment and compatibility are not only possible, they are what we should be striving for. It's not too much to want it all.

Is marriage easy? Of course not, that's not really the point. True love is not completely effortless - no relationship is - but with the right person we are willing and happy to put in the effort to maintain our connection. The wedding is our declaration that that I choose you to make the journey with, to grow and change with, despite the hardships that will come, despite the fear that I feel, you are worth the effort and the risk.

The human spirit has a large capacity for denial. We can go through life ignoring the doubts and warnings nagging at the back of our minds for a very long time but eventually something comes along that shines a light on those hidden doubts. Once the doubts are illuminated, it is difficult to continue ignoring them and things fall apart pretty quickly after that. Weddings are often a catalyst for this process; I've seen it many times over the years. There is a rash of break-ups after every wedding. Watching someone else declare their love and commitment to each other makes us pause and ask ourselves, do I have that?

My brother-in-law has told me many times over the years that no one should settle; hold out for the whole package, it is possible. But at what point do you admit that someone is not the right person for you? Giving up too quickly is not the answer but hanging on beyond that point isn't either. It's a tricky balance but if I'm asking myself the question often, chances are good that I already know the answer. The more important question to ask myself right now is, if I'm not willing to settle what am I going to do about it?

Sell Out

Sell out. There is no greater insult you could throw at an artist. Why? Most artists want to sell their works, whether they are paintings, books, albums or designs. So once that happens and their work is in demand, why do we so often accuse them of selling out? Isn’t that the point? Why do we assume that if something appeals to the masses it is lacking in quality or talent? Do we have such a low opinion of our fellow human beings that we cannot believe that they can appreciate quality? Or maybe we are jealous of their success; fear that we could not do the same.

Are there degrees of selling out? What about writing best-selling romance novels to pay the bills while you write “the great American novel”? Or acting in commercials until you get a more substantial role in a movie? Is that a form of selling out or just being practical? If you are going to have to work a job to pay the bills while you are trying to make your way in the field that you are passionate about, why not pay those bills by doing something related to your passion instead of just flipping burgers? At the very least, it will give you the opportunity to hone your craft. If a band mixes some cover tunes into there set does that make them a sell out? Or are they simply using the tools at their disposal to increase the awareness and exposure of their original songs?

You can have the best product but if no one knows it exists they’re not going to buy it. If you don’t write your message in a language people can understand and enjoy then they will never read it. I’m not suggesting that you compromise your art just to appeal to the general population. I’m saying that packaging the message in an entertaining and appealing way allows it to be heard by more people. In the words of Mary Poppins, “a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down”. That’s just good marketing.

So what constitutes selling out? In my opinion, giving in to the marketing and forgetting the original intent. If you stop creating the art that you want and need to create - the art that is close to your heart - because you are afraid to disrupt the money coming in from the popular creations, then that is selling out. However, if you truly enjoy writing romance novels, who cares if your books don’t end up in the “literature” section of the bookstore? We are all responsible for our own integrity and only the artist can really know if they are a sell out. So maybe we should just focus on making sure that we support quality art and talent when we find it and live our own lives with as much integrity as we can.

Acceptance

"Time heals all wounds". Those words are meant to comfort but the truth in them has often wounded me as much as the initial loss. There were days when I didn't even think of you and other days when I had the nerve to be happy, even though you are gone. Once I realized it, guilt stole those moments away from me. Somehow, it seemed like a betrayal or disloyalty for me to, not only continue living without you, but to thrive without you.

They say that acceptance is the final stage of grief. I realize now that acceptance is not just a matter of accepting that someone is dead but accepting that you are allowed to be happy without them. A few months ago, someone gave me a quote that finally makes sense to me. "There are things we don't want to happen but have to accept; things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go.

Yesterday I realized that I had achieved that acceptance. Now, instead of feeling guilty about my happiness, I am offering it up to you as a gift. A gift of gratitude that I had the opportunity to know true friendship and now have an opportunity to love again, even more deeply.

Connections

This week has been unusually busy and I'm exhausted from the effort of being sociable. While I'm generally a friendly person, making new, and lasting, connections doesn't always come easily. There is a side of me that wants to just give up and run away from the prospect of cultivating more relationships.

I know that relationships take effort to cultivate and maintain. I truly get excited about the prospect of forming a deep connection with someone. Where I can continually peel back the layers and learn something new about them while being being surrounded by the comfort of their familiarity.

So, despite the temptation to cut myself off from the new people in my life and just maintain the relationships I already have, I have been putting in the effort. Will all of them pan out into lasting relationships? Who knows, maybe not. Maybe that's not the point. Maybe making the effort despite the risk is the point.

Ice Jam

Spring is the most transient season. It is upon us before we fully realize it and it's often full of ugliness and damage. As the snow melts it exposes the garbage and debris that has been hidden for months. On Friday, the river was completely blocked up with an ice-jam. It looked like a glacier with huge chunks of ice piled up on themselves. The frozen river seemed deceptively still but under the surface the current was still moving, working away at the massive blocks of ice. A few hours later, the current did its thing and the ice jam broke, flowing up river.

I feel as though my heart is the frozen Red River. The last six months or so have been a time of change for me and I have finally allowed myself to thaw a bit. But my emotions have gotten caught up in a few ice jams over the months. I have questioned the value of allowing my emotions to thaw because it seems to lead to more hurt. I'm trying to look to nature to remind myself of why the struggle is worth it. I need to trust that below the surface the current is still moving and eventually, if I let it, the emotional ice jams will break up and my heart will be able to flow freely again. Right now, there is mud, ice and water everywhere. The ugliness is necessary before the true spring renewal can occur and in a few weeks I'll have forgotten this early phase of spring, distracted by the wonder of new growth.

Mother Hubbard's Cupboard

I'm broke. I haven't been this broke since my university days. When I go to the grocery store every item on my list takes careful consideration to determine if it is truly a necessity. In an effort to save money, I have been making a real effort to use the items that I have on hand in my pantry and freezer. There are many days when I think that I hve nothing to eat but with a little effort and creativity I manage to pull something together. What is surprising is that many of these meals are not only edible but they are actually quite tasty.

This made me realize that it is easier to assume that I have nothing worthwhile in the house and go out to the store or restaurant to find something better. Too often, I take this same attitude with myself. I too easily belive that there is nothing worthwhile in my personal pantry. However, I am discovering talents that I have disregarded and left to collect dust and emotions that I stored away years ago in my frozen heart. Some of them seem a little freezer-burned but they are still palatable. Hopefully, I will be able to make it through the old stuff soon and start working with fresh ingredients again. In the meantime, I have a new appreciation for the old stuff that I've stored away.

Texture

Raspberry jam on toast is a favourite snack of mine. But it can't be just any raspberry jam, it has to have the seeds in it. The more seeds the better, in fact. If the toast is mae from multi-grain bread then I'm really happy.

What makes this such a blissful combination? It's a series of contrasts that make the end result so great - the warmth of the toast against the coolness of the jam - the smoothness of the jelly against the crispness of the toast and the crunch of the seeds.

When I think about it, many of my favourite foods have thes combination of contrasts. Maybe it's time I take this lesson to my life. Without the lows, the highs would lose some of their magic. I need to start enjoying the texture of my life more. To savour the contrasts of people, events and emotions and pay attention to how they interact to create something more than the individual parts.

Phases of the soul

The moon has always fascinated me. It is both tangible and intangible at the same time. During the day it often seems like a holiday decoration that someone forgot to take down. At night, when it radiates the sun's light it seems alive, like a watchful eye.

I think that our souls are a bit like the moon. There are many times when we are only a one-dimensional projection of our soul. We are present but forgettable. Then there are times when our soul radiates out for all to see and we become more solid, more tangible.

The moon follows a pattern, its phases are predictable because we have discovered the events that govern its changes. Knowing the reasons, however, doesn't make it less wondrous or beautiful. I haven't figured out the pattern that governs the changes in my soul yet. Perhaps when I have a better understanding of it I will be able to better appreciate all of its phases.

Right now I feel like my soul is the waxing moon. It is growing slightly every day but it's not yet at its full radiance. Too many people try to hide their soul's radiance, myself included. I suppose that's what the biblical parable about hiding your lamp under a barrel was about. It seems that if you hide your soul's radiance for too long then you risk extinguishing it completely. I don't want to let that happen so I'm trying to find the moments that allow it to shine out. Writing seems to be one of those things. Probably because in writing I'm trying to describe my soul.

One of the reasons I stopped writing for so long was that I didn't want anyone to see the real me, to see inside my heart and head. I was afraid that they wouldn't like what was beyond the outside projection. I continually changed the projection so that they couldn't discover the true me. But people can't love something one dimensional for long, so this strategy isn't satisfying for anyone in the end.

Fear

"A life lived in fear is a life half lived." - Strictly Ballroom

Many times over the last few years I've thought about starting a blog but something always held me back. Fear. Fear of failure, fear of success, fear of exposure...the list was endless . I recently came across something that I wrote a few years ago that illustrates my struggle:

My pen has failed me, or am I failing the pen?
Either way it's the same. Failure.
Fail is a four letter word. So is fear.
How closely connected they are.
All of my life I've been caught in a cycle of fear and failure.
Fear of failure. Failure through fear.
Money isn't the root of all evil; fear is.

Well now I've decided to break the cycle. For several months now I've been on a journey to take control of my life - to live it fully despite my fears. This blog is the next step on that journey. Maybe no one will read it but that isn't the point. It can serve as a record as I strive to bring my dreams, my life and my spirit into fruition.