Letters from the Heart not the Head

Updated: Apr 3

How funny.


All day long there are little moments and pieces of time that I'd like to freeze and record. A thought will cross through my mind; the kind of thought that a younger me would have caught and held and rolled around or scribbled down -- just for the sake of expanding that thought into words.

Into poetry.


I hold myself back when I write these days. It used to be the one space that I was free. My pen and me.


But then we grow up, don't we?


All of us in the end.


And now I sell my words to men who strike them with italics and tell me to "lean-in to the keywords", or "think about the words someone would Google".


And so I've learned to.


I've learned how to think like a machine. I've learned to think like the human condition and how they enter their every day little thoughts into their search engines.


And I used to howl at the moon.


--


The taste of my own blood is what reminded me that I used to write for myself.


I chew my thumb when I am anxious. Or, I used to back when I was anxious.

But by the looks of the torn and mangled skin on the inside of my right thumb -- I appear to be dealing with anxiety again.


And it doesn't even matter.

Because we all are.

And so it actually is one of the only things that matters.


--


I want you to feel okay again.


--


The digital world was and is slammed since March 15, 2020.

And I can't tell if we're all losing our minds or finding our souls.

It's different for everyone.

Some people are trapped in countries that aren't their homes.

Some people are at home in countries that they are trapped.

Others live in homes that are a cycle of psychotic breaks.


We all walk a different path.

We are all experiencing the same peace and agonies -- it is all relative. But it is all the same condition of being alive.


--


This blog I think is going to be one of the toughest things I have ever done with myself.


A twenty-two year old me would have written and written and shared and shared if she had known how to build herself this kind of platform.


But this is where the inspiration for this project came from. Her. That girl who loved to write.

The one who didn't care what anyone else thought of what she wrote.

Because she loved the process of writing and releasing.


--


These online one-on-one meditations and writing programs are not easy.


This week, a woman I was working with found a wall within herself. She is scared to move forward or look further in.


I will not push her. I will not push anyone to step into this space.


She will come when she is ready.


We are all a little bit delicate sometimes.

I forget this sometimes.

I wish I was more delicate sometimes.


But, we are all who we are.


Whatever you choose, be okay with it.


I don't know how to help anyone except to offer what has been helpful to me throughout the years. To offer teachings of what set me free.


I had set these dates for launching this website and these events months ago.

The timing is awful and it is also extraordinary.

I am choosing to stick to the plan and witness it all as it unfolds.


--


I love you.

But I will not push you to do anything.


You have to step closer and closer still.


--


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I'm actually glad I just wrote creatively this time. Ahhh, what a relief.










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Calgary, Alberta, Canada