Life Without Passion Isn’t

die of passionIt’s true. Life without passion isn’t really life at all. It’s not living, and it’s absofreakinglutely no fun.

Some days it’s easier than others to ignore the grey cloud of obligation that follows some folks everywhere they go. When it casts its shadow however on  the bright light of those of us who live with passion, it’s less than enchanting.

As a matter of fact, too many consecutive days of this is  frustrating beyond belief. It’s life sucking. It’s boring as shit.

It’s the machine against which creative spirits rebel. And in that rebellion, great, wild, deliciously unforgettable adventures are experienced.

In this very present moment, I feel that I need to step out of the shadow and into the light and guess what?….

 

I am utterly spent, but more than that, I’m fierce. It is within that fierceness that the fire of my passion, my creativity, and my sense of adventure are rooted and nurtured.

If you too find yourself occasionally worn down by the lack of imagination in the world around you, you are in good company here my friend.

Take some advice from me darling; get some rest, feed your desires and find the time and space to let your creativity run wild. I dare you to feel a sin coming on.

…and if it does, I want to hear all about it.

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Your Invitation Awaits: Shine On My Wonderful Friends, Shine On!

centenary_red_tan_50406bNow that you feel comfortable in my writing space, come on over and get cozy with www.andsheshines.wordpress.com

If you are in the midst of change, and looking for inspiration, this is the place. Pack a bag and a fabulous pair of shoes my darlings…xo

See you there… https://andsheshines.wordpress.com

 

The Incredible Lightness of Kicking it to the Curb

suitcasesI’ve been talking about decluttering for a year.

Yes, talking about it, giving it lip service, and finding a zillion ways to sabotage any time I have  to do it.

Well, it’s time.

As I said to someone last night, I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. By that I mean the hamster-on-the-day-to-day-grind-wheel-without-seeing-any-results. I haven’t seen that light in a very, very long time, and I’m kinda diggin’ it.

That means that I will likely be packing up and clearing out soon in order to unpack and settle in somewhere else. I’m nothing if not a lazy mover, so that means, anything not worth lifting has got to go.

This time I will not move an appliance box full of stiletto heels or a giant box of office supplies. I’m too old for that shit darlings.

I have reams of untested recipes, a giant box of hair accessories from the 90’s, and a drawer full of frilly bits that haven’t seen the light of day since three lovers ago. I have photo albums that are ready for the fire after a I take out a picture or two. My writing drawer has morphed into a bottomless trinket trunk, with old ear plugs, book marks, playing cards, love notes and an assortment of massage oils that I’m sure went rancid six years ago. Time to bundle it up and wave a giddy bon-voyage.

But there’s lots to do before I close my little apartment door for the last time and put out the last fire in our cozy fireplace. Like make a copy of all the marks on the side of the kitchen doorway that recorded my kiddo’s growth. I also have to catch the one cat who will not be touched, and bundle up my Hallowe’en and Chistmas decorations.

Right now I’m going to forget about cancelling my cable, changing my phone number and coming up with the extra cash I know that I’ll need to make a new place home. I’m going to forget about not knowing where the libray is, or the gym, or have a routine for picking up my groceries or a quick take-out dinner. I’m going to forget about the comfort of living in the city and being surrounded by people 24 hours a day.

Right now, I’m just going to dream about what I want. I’m going to inquire and talk to people about what’s next, and hopefully put enough good stuff out there, that it comes back in the form of a new way to pay the bills, a new place to live, and new people to have adventures with as I move to stay closer to the people I love.

But first, I need boxes. And a rainy weekend or two to clear it all out…

 

 

The Toilet: Where You Find The Best Things

no-mudFor years I had this je ne sais quois quality about me that, dare I say was charismatic, charming, and could even make your grouchy old granddad giggle.

But then I lost it. I guess for a while I didn’t much care. I figured it was just the normal aging process. Recent events have had me re-evaluating, and realizing that like my black tights which make their way onto hangers under the next sweater I’m going to wear, my chutzpah hasn’t died, it’s just been hiding in a corner where I had, out of sheer exhaustion, dropped it.

For a couple of months I’ve been getting hints that it’s still around. I’ve been reclaiming my own joy; creativity, physical activity, rest…and with that, I’ve felt it was coming back; that fabulous zest for life that is my legacy. Our legacy ladies. Everyone’s legacy.

No, it wasn’t hidden by the old stack of House & Home magazines in the corner, or next to an errant knee high and old slipper that continually fail at making it into my laundry bin. No, I found it in the loo at a crowded bar,dressed up and fevered to the point of sweating through my clothes and being yelled at because of it.  Yah, it’s true, we find miracles in the darndest places.

At some point (and yes, it was a sober some point as all I’d had for two days was gingerale and tea) the reality of reality sets in.  When you find peace in a tiny stall with a toilet, you should know that something is wrong.

One cannot seek meaningful solace next to the shitter darlings. One can only hope to apply fresh lipstick and get their kit together.

If you find yourself in a similar circumstance sweeties, look at it less like a dirty toilet in a pathetic re-run bar, and more like a time machine, transporting you from whomever made you want to shrivel up, or feel shrivelled up, to all of your gloriousness as a woman who is true to herself.

In those toilet-hiding moments, we find our je-ne-sais-quoisness.  These are the moments that give you the confidence to strut.

Last night, after having suffered for someone else’s comfort, and being yelled at and treated poorly, I made a trip to the lady’s time machine where my wee little girl brain asked me what in the hell I was doing suffering for someone else who was supposed to be not just a friend, but the best of friends.

The night got worse before it got better, but it was at least efficient.

Quite often women retreat to the bathroom as their only place of quiet and peace. Whether it’s out and about, or at home. Quite often they are there because someone has attacked their self worth. Those quiet, albeit gross moments near the toilet are generally where you can find your value again. Dare I say your,  I-Don’t-Give-A-Shitness.

It’s sad that we are forced into the shit to find ourselves, but that is life. No mud, no lotus right? Whatever…

Just remember if you find yourself in the loo with a tear in your eye, it’s a grand opportunity to make things better.  I mean, after all, how much worse can it get than hiding in the same place a thousand other people have pooped? Not much.

 

Just When You Think It Can’t Get Any Worse

danceinthekitchenI have had one hell of a year.

It’s been a  ‘real doozy’ as your granny might say. Like a feather pillow at a pre-teen slumber party, sometimes you just get the emotional shit kicked out of you.

Tonight as I stretched toward the top of the cupboards with the longest barbeque tool I could find, I heard the voice of he-who-shall-not-be-named telling me that I was going to hurt myself. Deftly I scooped up a long wicker tray, and tipped it into my waiting hand…like a boss.

A few months ago, I was planning things with this he-who-shall-not-be-named sweetheart. I hadn’t been that happy in sooooo long. I was over the moon.

Tonight I’m alone.

As over the moon as I was a few months ago, I dove that deeply into mourning the loss of all that it was going to be.

What is it they say? I think it goes something like this, “ My knight in shining armor turned out to be an asshole in tinfoil“. Whatever… and at this age and stage, who cares?  It is, whatever it is. It’s. Not. My. Problem.

One thing that I do know for sure is that the future is too precious to waste dwelling on the past.

As I heard that voice in the back of my head, tipping my wicker baking basket over my head, I realized that I was truly happy. Happy. Goofy smile, humming to myself, dancing like a fool all by myself in my tiny kitchen.

I  stirred caramel corn and baked devilishly good cupcakes while bopping around my little kitchen in tights and a t-shirt, not missing anyone or anything. You see, just when you think it can’t get any worse, it often does, get better.

Over time, and with careful observation of how my mumster handles herself with grace, strength, and my favourite trait; humor, I realize just how much control we do have when it comes to having a good day or a bad day.

Don’t get me wrong, sometimes life just stinks, and you need to curl up in a ball. You need to rage, cry, hate, feel insecure and alone. You need to do all of this without apology or holding back.

And one day you’ll be done with it.

You’ll find yourself all alone, smiling from the inside out, and you will realize just how damn wonderful this one, precious, life really is.

Sunday Meditation: Every Day Ritual

takecomfortI wake up this morning of my own accord. There is no alarm clock, just time to be me.

But there is ritual in this nothingness, this casual waking and being.

I pad to the kitchen, stumble over my own feet, turn the patio blinds, come back to the enveloping embrace of my still-warm, duvet mountain of a bed and send up a prayer that I’ve come to realize I’ve been saying, in my own way, at my own speed, for many years. It is a prayer of gratitude.

And then my mind turns to wonder…this morning it’s about a lunch date with a an old flame, the pros and cons of moving, how much I’m looking forward to sprucing up my little corner of the world….

Wonder, the butler to her majesty; Curiosity.

Eventually I pour  coffee, a lot of coffee,  into one of my  oversized mugs that was gifted from friends, open the window over my writing desk, and sit down at the keyboard. My feline mentor scrambles onto the desk,past the plant that I barely manage to keep alive, and paws at the lace curtain until I lift it up, and place it over his head like a wedding veil. We both look out to the painting mother nature has created over night and breathe in the cool, fresh, morning air. .

This is my ritual. Every writer has one, and this is mine.

This morning, as I clock-watch and know that my time in front of the keyboard at my little window is short, I am grateful for my simple ritual. It grounds me just enough for inspiration to take root.

It grounds me just enough to turn anxiety into excitement, fear into courage, and sadness into a fading memory.

Hump Day Hilarity: Because Sometimes You Just Need to Lighten Up & Laugh

The Swedish Chef makes me laugh uncontrollably. He’s right up there with King Julien, the other intellectual stimulation I sometimes seek after particularly stressful days.

I send this out with a heart full of love and a wish to hear your laughter ring out amid the crappola that can be the middle of the work-week.

Have fun people, and don’t forget that just because you’re an adult does not mean you can’t be silly.

Saturday: Smooth Sailing

smoothsailingSending out a tune to help start your day…

The older I get, the more I appreciate days that go smoothly; decent traffic, good health, a roof over my head and food on our table. Don’t ever forget that a dash of  flirty fun and sassiness adds some flavor to the smooth sailing too darlings.

Yes, smooth sailing is smiling and laughing and letting yourself be yourself.

It has been a week of learning, fresh starts, and a long exhale…

Hoping that this song by Leon Bridges helps start your day in a positive way…

A Beautiful Messy Life

  

How Will You Spend the Last Week of Summer?

28728-Vintage-Ferris-Wheel

“The end-of-summer winds make people restless.” ~Sebastian Faulks~

The 31st day of August, and all is well.

Well? 

The end of August, although not the official end of summer, is the end of summer-as-we-know-it.

Yesterday at the grocery store, I found myself sniffing pumpkin-spice scented candles and wondering at the orange, red and brown accessories that accompany back to school granola bar and juice box on-sale-specials. As I wandered the aisles, the reality that another summer was waving good-bye with her candy-apple red manicure, sunk in.

Did you manage to do everything that you wanted to do this summer? Did you go skinny-dipping under the stars with your sweetie? Did you plant your garden? Did you stay up too late drinking wine and talking the deep, soul quenching talks with your true-love?

Once again I have a summer-to-do list that is still unfulfilled. I did manage to do a few things though, and I still have a few days left. A concert, a day at the CNE and goodness-knows-what will be crammed in there. I hope to make every moment of this last week of summer count. I hope that you do the same.

During the past two weeks, I’ve silently mourned the dwindling hours of daylight. Yesterday, in the humid afternoon air of late August, I made a pathetic attempt to reorganize our shed, but made just enough progress to untangle lights and recycle a couple of empty boxes.

I hung twinkle lights on the patio, and dreamed of our annual fall Friends-Thanksgiving-Gathering. I imagined the pumpkins and corn stalks and decorations that would take the place of my petunias and geraniums.

summersunflowerAt dusk, under the twinkle lights with my cup of tea, I let my mind wander to the blessings in my life. For even though this summer has been the first time in my life that I have really come to know sadness, I have so much for which to be grateful.

The sunshine of summer is transforming to the warm colours of fall. Seasons change and turn with no regard for how much we feel we have accomplished, how satisfying our relationships are, or our ability to appreciate the swift, unforgiving nature of time.

We have one week left darlings; Wishing you a week of summer that is full of the light-hearted delights that only summer can offer.