Friday, May 2, 2014


And sometimes the hardest thing for me to do is wade through my thoughts.  Torn by an intense fear of vulnerability.  If I choose to share the imperfections of my life, the self-doubt, the poor habits, the waste and excess then isn't any public shame or disgrace simply my just desserts?

How are the scales balanced.  Can intent or idea outweigh prolapsed dreams and aborted efforts?  Is not the doing always more important than the thinking about doing..... more?

Is it merely self-aggrandizement to think anyone cares to know or benefits from my share?  More importantly are those fears of future denigration grounded in the same self-aggrandizing thoughts that nudge and at times propel blog posts forward....even if I imagine they hold me back?

Should I not be more happy, upbeat, uplifting (in message), overflowing with optimism and enthusiasm.  I do after all spend day and night privileged.

My daughter sleeps in her bed tonight.  My son lies under warm soft blankets in his crib.  My husband remains an ever-present pillar of support.

I am engulfed by love near and far.  Appreciative and grateful, even if weighed down by the frustration of incomplete initiatives.

Saturday, April 12, 2014


And sometimes I need the space to be weak.
Not mandated from on high,
Or premised in man is strong, and woman is well....

But safe weak.
Weakness I can sit in as long as I need to.
Knowing I am attended to by he who compliments my brilliance,
And stands guard waiting to applaud my triumphant rise.

I am after all but a single grain of sand,
Before an ocean of life,
Clumped with a community of rough edges
Battered by waves,
Smoothed by touch,
Pressed into pearls or
Moulded into temporal edifices.

Non-metaphorically human
And sometimes weak.

Saturday, March 29, 2014

More Wonder

And I can't find the words, though I know they are there.  I fumble about, clumsily, periodically sending perfectly good ideas crashing to the floor, bursting into a million pieces because I'm scared.  Unsure of too much it feels.  Straining to see the woman reflected in a mirror mere feet away.

And I worry about too much I'm sure.  I wonder if broadcasting my fears and inadequacies is foolish or helpful to anyone who might come across this blog and relate.  

I stand in a doorway, before a room of thousands of small fragile things and I wonder if I am careful and brave enough to enter.  Especially as I leave a room full of wrecked notions of self behind me.

Friday, March 21, 2014


And this moment is new.
And I am brave.
And if I fail, I will get back up and try again.

Because I cannot change what has already happened.
And sometimes the very act of carrying on is revolutionary.
Because courage brightens the cave fear would have me hide, live, and die in.

Thursday, March 13, 2014

Getting By

A Practice in Getting By:

Step one:  Let everyone (spouse and children) fend for themselves.

Step two:  Ignore pleas for help and/or cries unless life threatening.

Step three:  Note that despite not intervening, the world continues to spin.

Step four:  Repeat steps 1-3 regularly, and GET BY.

Warning: While personal satisfaction may occur, said advice does not protect against spousal alienation.

Anger Unexplained

And the fury runs deep,
Boils up,
Topples over.

No one to blame,
no source of pain.
Just anger, unexplained.

Sunday, March 9, 2014


Me: italicized text  My 3 y/o daughter: regular text

[Describing a small cut on her finger.]

It looks like something you jump on.
A trampoline?
No a jumping thing that you ride on.
A trolley? - you jump on and off of those right???
No, no.
A skateboard, a bicycle?
No, it's like a bicycle.
I don't know babes, I'm sorry.
It's like this *jumps around holding pretend handle bars*
OH, a pogo stick!
YES, YES a pogo stick! *with the biggest most satisfying smile*

Don't know if she's ever even seen a pogo stick.  I hope I never forget that smile, I hope her life is filled with the deep satisfaction and joy of being understood by those she loves.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Happy International Women's Day

And daily I try to silence her.
The raging anti-feminist voice inside of me.
She who devalues what I do,
Condemns me for what I don't,
And never has a kind word to say about my work
At home
Or otherwise.

She who questions the very implications of such a label,
Self affixed, despite historical racism,
Despite marginalization,
Despite the potential for future oppression:

I hear her.  Respect her more than I should.
But I know she's wrong. 
I know that my choices, my values, the labels I choose to adorn
Are not accidental, misguided, or improper.

My life is my own,
My love freely distributed.
I know that with each day comes knowing.
Recognition of one's self unlike the day before.

Today I say, 
I am honoured to share in the sisterhood of woman.
May I always act in the love, generosity, and determination 
That sisterhood engulfs and inspires within me.

Monday, March 3, 2014


And if only things were so easy as grabbing hands, holding tight.
Placing soft kisses that relax furrowed brows.
Exchanging looks that know it all and need not explanation, nor apology.
Instead silence grows.
Sadness creeps.
You and I fail to meet.

Sunday, March 2, 2014


And again we circle back to fear.
You'd think I'd recognize the shape of his head,
or her signature gait, from the back
as many times as I have rounded this block.

But a tune being hummed distracts me.
In the distance I see the answer I've been seeking taking shape
and its by accident that I stumble upon fear again.
Having not recognized the suffocating scent of self doubt
until already surrounded with nowhere to flee.

I mistake dawn for dusk,
the beginning for the end.
Blink a couple of times to regain my focus,
retrieve reading glasses to properly see
the blurred vision moving slowly in front of me
hoping I am quick enough to grasp it before it is gone forever.

Today I am lucky.
The doctor tells me I have eyes like my father
and while I am yet unsure whether that is a blessing or curse,
I look on.
I take hold of the vision, clinch it close to my chest
and walk along with fear.
Knowing that the first steps past fear are the hardest,
That as I move out of paralysis, fear has no choice but to loosen its grip.

Friday, February 28, 2014

So yeah...this

It's been a challenging week.

I'm not always sure about my parenting abilities.  There I said it.  I am a full-time homemaker and sometimes I feel like I suck at my job.  I yell too much and housework is almost never the priority.

All that being said, the following link made me smile and feel just a little less alone.

Friday, February 21, 2014


And rather than hurried and scared
Spooked by shadows and ghouls alike
I choose to walk slowly.
Running my fingertips along a line of bricks
In a wall
Erected to honour that which I may never fully know.
Feeling for clues along smooth dips and abrasive surfaces
Hoping the texture will reveal truths

Only visible in the brilliant rays of self-love.

Sunday, February 16, 2014


And the only plant that seems to have survived more than a very short season in our house is an aloe vera plant.  It's not been a whole year, but I'm hoping we can make it last.  I find myself internally extolling the benefits of house plants: purer air, the fact that they are symbols of growth and life.  Yet, they almost always go neglected.  Mid-way up the stairs on the way to bed I say to myself, first thing in the morning I'll water the plant and then days past before what seems like a ritual starts again as I glance up at some point during the day at the browning edges of the plant I intend to water.

A friend gave me some insight as to why the aloe vera plant may have a chance, why it might actually survive for longer than a couple months.  No wilting and dying, but thriving in the floods and droughts that characterize my plant tending habits.

Some plants it turns out are designed for just that.  So I am counting on the plump water filled leaves of my aloe vera plant to help me.  Help me adapt to its needs, maybe even develop a consistent care routine that I can stick to.

I imagined I'd tie those thoughts into some larger conversation about floods and droughts and thirst, but I am at a loss.  So I guess I'll await the next flood of thoughts or emotions that tumble out in a new poem or post, and just admire the dust until then.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Wintery Days

Running noses.
Exasperated whines.
Fussing, fussing, fussing.
Wits ends.
Coughs to the face.
Minutes thousands of years long.
Dinners unstarted.
Messes uncleaned
Tired mothers half-asleep,
Drumming up the internal fortitude
To survive wintery
Don't want to go outside days.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Not By Accident

And so sometimes it takes effort to remember that I am not me by accident.  Though I make mistakes, forget things, choose unwise paths sometimes, my life is still pretty amazing.  And from time to time I find myself wondering, and what if this had been different, what if I had been different.  But I think in some ways that wondering leads me back to the same place.

I am not me by accident and who I am in the future will be a related directly to who I choose to be now.  So here's to trying to make good decisions, practicing love and forgiveness, and endeavoring to be the woman I'd like to be now, always.

Monday, February 10, 2014


Every thought,
Every memory.
Every flight of imagination.

Tasting the salty
And sweet.

Listening to the whispers,
barely audible that say more.

Disregarding any siren that cautions
Savoring slowly,
That which nature intended to

Sunday, February 9, 2014


And it occurs to me that each morning I rise with the unstated expectation of being perfect.
Not said in plain words "Today I will be perfect!"
Instead implied in commitments to not make mistakes.
Undertones in the shades of green, ruby, and gold.
Admonishments for being too envious, angry, or opulent.

My mind is cloudy before sleep.
And upon the first falter each day, the failures beam in indignation.
Blinding all that is good,
Spotlighting much of what is bad, nay imperfect.
And I tell myself,
"There is no perfect",
Yet I meet each mistake in shame.

Still each day presents a new opportunity.
A chance to get it right,
To all but delight in failure.
To welcome wrong positions and
and the pressing forward through those faults
To the signifier present all along:


Friday, February 7, 2014

Thursday, February 6, 2014


Sometimes I feel unstoppable.
Bound by no one.
At others as fragile as the thinnest layer of ice.
Like an almost frozen ice cube,
Ready to collapse at the smallest bit of pressure.
Sending my insides gushing out.

An ideas woman with no platform,
I wonder.
How to be fearless.
How to chart a productive path
Through dense self-doubt.

What good is a brilliant mind
When trapped in a vortex,
Continuously swirling amid
Self indictment.

I'm learning to give myself a break.
It's not a lesson I'm unaware I need to learn.
Who will stand at the gate and let me know
If I've gone too far,
If I've forsaken too much,
If I've let slowly fall away those I cherish most.

Unwise questions to hinge self-care on I'm sure.
An unbefitting attitude made sensible only in the uncharitable
 Reading of self, I find my ambition struggling to escape.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Heart's Desire

Today was my birthday.  I left a very eventful 31st year behind me.  My life is much different than it was a year ago.  I had many reflections that fell like vegetables into the simmering broth of a good stew, swirling round and round as I contemplated how to get the flavour just right, the depth full and satisfying.

Here's what I arrived at:

My life is full of love.  My goal for forever more is to not forget that, to never let any personal or professional failure hide that from me.  I had been feeling a bit down a while ago and asked family and friends "if you had to describe me to someone, what would you say?"  The responses were what I needed, a reminder that the people who love me think more on the things that are great about me than on the things that are not so great, or at the very least they love me enough to help me remember who I endeavour to be even if I am not always her.  My mother in particular helped me remember that I can be fearless and a fighter.

Good friends are worth their weight in gold.  I am so blessed to have a network of friends old and new, near and far.  I like to be self-efficient, but the truth is I need the varying perspectives and personal traits of all my friends.  Sometimes I'm not as great at nurturing those relationships as I'd like to be. Trust is sacred and good communication skills take practice.  So to all my friends who read this, THANK YOU for your love.

Truth is powerful.  I'm loved.  I have great family, great friends, and great expectations for the year to come.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Fool for You

So I'm not sure how many of you have seen Alice Smith's performance of "Fool for You".  
(Click the picture and you can watch the performance in a new window.  I couldn't figure out how to make it not autoplay, so I just linked the picture - it will load automatically when you click the link.  Make sure you come back after you watch it though to finish the post).

It is fantastic, a cover of a Cee Lo song, and I like both, but feel like the song means different things coming from a woman.  

You can find the lyrics here.  I needed to look at the words to fully understand since I wasn't familiar with the song before hearing her version.

A couple of thoughts:
"Cant nobody tell me nothing, I said it is what it is"
1) This performance to me engenders a grown sexuality.  Without being half clothed or gyrating across the stage in theoretical celebration of women's bodies, the performance conjures up the deepness of good sex.  Though the song is about much more than sex, the beats, the words, the artists insertion of self (facial expressions, dance movements) all point towards the personal, transformative experience that characterizes good sex... and the type of connection the song describes.    

"Any mistake you make, I just might forgive."
2) I had never heard of Alice Smith before that performance.  She showed up and she owned the stage that night.  I can't stomach most awards shows (and similar events), but this left me feeling grateful for all the creativity and hard work of everyone from back up signers and light techs to camera people, the all female band, and of course Alice Smith herself who made it possible.  They all excelled.

"Sweet sugar, I surrender.  I don't want no other man.  Baby you win."
3) As a girl I was taught to be guarded when it came to sex.  Convinced while I might be looking for a companion, the boys/young men around me would just be looking for sex.  This guardedness over time makes it hard to surrender and sometimes I admit that's exactly what I need to do, just surrender to love, my own desires, and the ease of a relationship so good.....grown (and tended) is the only way to describe it.

Friday, January 31, 2014

New Look

Hope you like it.  Felt like a change.  If its hideous, let me know.

Thursday, January 30, 2014


The paralysis sets in,
The distractions roar.
The next thing goes undone.

One child runs circles around
the other who sits eating a toy
likely not approved for chewing.

A list of things personal,
sits undone.

Why can't I focus.
Why don't I feel exceptional today....or many others?
What does self-care look like?

Wednesday, January 29, 2014


Eyes just closed.
Sweet words gently coaxing sleep.
Breath bated,
sleepy latch released.

Mission aborted.

Toddler is as toddler does.
Baby revived.
Fragile silence broken.


Playful teasing turned
accidental alienation.

Attach armour prepare for battle.

Attack, defend, cower.
Fragile hearts.


A look.
A smile.
A sexy sartorial selection.

A glance at a whining infant.
Clock hands not quite at bed time.
Dirty dishes, dirty laundry,
"Dirty" thoughts?

Isn't that one of the perks of marriage?
You remember when neither friend nor foe stood in the way.

A fragile mood,
Hinged on fragile hearts connecting
In the extended fragile silence late night
Eventually brings.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014


Brilliant rays sparking gentle waves
Of endorphins.
Light gentle bumps to the backs of my yes.
A deep breath in,
a deep breath out.
A pause.

Wiggly giggles and contagious smiles.
Mostly eaten apples and almost eaten toys.
A silent yawn.

An exclamation, from a newly mobile baby.
Translation: "On guard" or the errant bead is mine.


Sunday, January 26, 2014

Missing Words

Couldn't quite find the words,
they got lost somewhere.
If I find them I'll post them.
My fair share.

A picture instead.  Photos of me and my sweeties from last December.

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Night into Morning

Bedtime stories are read.
A sweet baby nursed, and nestled in bed.
Such is the sweetness of life,

For I know this time will soon enough disappear,
Though I rush it now hurriedly along,
Because sleep is precious too, right?

And when the morning comes,
Praying that the morning comes.
I'll be grateful again.

Thursday, January 23, 2014


And sometimes pages are turned.
Sometimes dawn brings with it new mercies.
Sometimes when we reach up there is a hand there willing to help us heave ourselves onto the next plateau.

I'm grateful for snowstorms.  For some reason shovelling snow encourages me in a deep indescribably way.

There is productivity.
There is despair then triumph.
There is me and movement.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Sharing is Scary Sometimes...

Is it really better for my children for me to be home with them until they start school, if I would prefer to be working?

Yes, it's better.  How can you even consider outsourcing your most important job for most of your children's waking hours?

No, of course not, the longer you are out of the work force the greater the impact on your short and long-term financial stability, not to mention your confidence.

Yes, it's better.  Your children are only this young and precious for such a short amount of time.  Before you know it they will be grown, living half-way around the world, and you'll long for these days when you can take the opportunity to grow and nurture each other.

No, of course not, you're so unhappy being home, change is needed or you'll just grow more and more resentful and be less and less equipped to enjoy the time you share with your kids.

Yes, its' better.  Though they won't remember this, your children will miss you in the present and you will miss them, each day you have to leave to go to work.

No, of course not, any guilt you feel about leaving your children is grounded in anti-woman garbage you should have discarded of long ago.  Your partner works and you don't begrudge his desire to do so in any way shape or form.


My mom worked and I turned out just fine, but we also lived in a city with a large extended family.  Family affords the privilege of blurring boundaries to a certain extent, as it relates to childcare.  

....One question, so many answers, so many thoughts to flush out.

Friday, January 17, 2014

Important versus Unimportant

I spend a lot of time in my head.  Just now I was thinking about whether I should post more than one thing in a day, because that's not good blogging protocol.  You don't want to post everything at once right?  Because there will eventually be a moment when you can't or don't want to write something new.

...back to being in my head.  I think I get to a point sometimes when I've reached my capacity for acting in the way that is most responsible, especially to other folks.  I get lost in my head and waste away hours I should be using to do other things.  That's not particularly fair to my husband, children, friends, etc., but its a cycle I find myself repeating.

What I should be doing takes up so much room in my mind that I flee instead of fighting.  It feels and is experienced as selfish, but its my truth in the moment.

My goal is to be authentically me, the challenge is to be true to my desires without rejecting all obligations to others.  The trouble is so much of the time it feels as if I'm not a good enough mother, wife, entrepreneur, community member, sister, friend, daughter, etc. that when I'm actually not doing well at those jobs I find it hard to see where the tipping point was.

Specifically which obligations are important and which only seem as such?

A Younger Me

I was reading through an old blog I had right around the time I graduated from university.  It would be interesting to go back and have a conversation with that young woman.  I find her words and recollections endlessly interesting now, strangely enough I feel sort of detached from her.

Not because I don't find myself experiencing similar emotions, fears, challenges, etc., but because at this point the myopia of youth feels distant, though I'm as sure as I sit here that I will certainly think the same about thirty as I do about 21 or 22.

Though I wasn't sure what my voice was then, I hear a much stronger woman than I recollect.  Still I cringe at much that is written.  It's hard to believe such things once graced the crowded public wall of the internet.

I wonder what I will think of this blog nearly 10 years from now.

To take it back to something that lay buried in my memory until a few short hours ago.  I'll end like I ended posts way back then.

"Still living somewhere over the rainbow"

...though now I find myself still looking over my shoulder for the happiness police for some reason.
...thinking "but for God" at the same time as "but if God why?"(all the pain and suffering?)

Tuesday, January 14, 2014


And I've been feeling the urge to write, though I'm not sure exactly what I want to say. I contemplate womanhood and motherhood often. I wonder about the things that make me feel strong and the things that make me feel weak.

I wonder where my confidence went.

I wonder if material comfort pacifies me.

I wonder if I am as lazy as I feel sometimes.

I wonder much more.

And I appreciate what I hear when I hear responses, even if it is primarily my echo bouncing back.