It’s the Small Things

You know how we tend to worry about the small things. You know, those pesky details, perhaps in our latest project at work: “Did I do…?” “What if I didn’t…?” “What if he/she/they forgot..?” Or perhaps, “Of course! It’s my only day off in weeks and it’s cloudy!” Or, “God! I wish he’d learn to pick his socks up off of the floor!!! That’s what a laundry hamper is for!”

Well for me, right now, three weeks post, I find it’s the little things that I miss about my Gracie. Me coming out in the morning to find her laying on her doggie heating pad, snuggled into the beautiful red plush blanket. I would hear her before I saw her actually. As soon as I opened my door I’d hear a couple of ‘thump, thumps’ of her wee red and black ringed tail, and then the full-out tail crashing as she rolled over on her back and stretched for all she was worth begging for me to rub her tender, soft belly. I miss that little blonde patch on her back!

I also miss hearing the “pft, pft” sound that her pads made on the rug as she followed me around. I miss her scent! She always smelled so clean and baby-like, unless she was nervous or sick. I think Grace had only as many baths as she had years! Even then that was a blast! She would be so good in the sink, albeit rigid like an ironing board. Then I’d wrap her up in a big fluffy towel and give her a good rub, put her down on the tile floor for a slight slip and she’d go nuts rubbing herself on the rug and sniffing and sneezing.

But the small thing I miss the most? It’s her gentle energy as she would lie either on the heating pad or snuggled under a blanket beside me. Her quiet breathing. He gentle rising and falling belly as she slept soundly. The occasional whimper as she chased after a ball in her sleep. The quiet!

Oddly, it’s still quiet. But it’s missing something. It’s an empty quiet, if you know what I mean. It’s definitely getting better. I don’t cry at the drop of a hat now. In fact it’s been several days now since I cried at all. Funny! I just thought, the title to this entry, It’s the small things. She was small. Usually less than 10 pounds.

It’s different now than three weeks ago, though. Now I’m thankful for those small things. I’m thankful for the joy she brought me. I’m thankful for the early days alone when she’d bring me a torn up toy to play to literally shake me out of a funk. I’m thankful for the moments I had with her laying on the beach in Sechelt a few summers back. She was snuggled next to me in the scorching sun. She loved the sun. Like father like……Gracie. I had to set up a little tent that day with her green blanket and on the car blanket I carry with me in. But she was determined to be right beside me, even though I was wet with sweat and it was a bit uncomfortable.

This past Wednesday, Sarah and I went back to the Duncan Animal Hospital to pick up Gracie’s urn. We’ve decided not to bury her ashes. We’ve decided that we want to keep her in the urn. We’ve also decided to have a small memorial ceremony on June 26th, presided over by a fellow Life-Cycle Celebrant™. I’ve never been one who advocates keeping cremated remains of a person. But somehow, this is different. It’s Gracie.

It’s just one of those small things!

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Spring Has Sprung!

Saying Goodbye

It has been three months since I last wrote anything for my blog. I’ve been wrapped up in life and have neglected my Craft. And I can only offer excuses and not reasons for not taking 15 – 30 minutes – even every few days. Really! I love writing and the truth is I have tons of excuses but only one real reason…laziness!

I have a two-fold purpose for this posting:

• To say thank you
• To try to say goodbye

So let’s start with Thank you. Thank you to each and everyone one who has been so supportive to Sarah and me. And a special thank you goes to Sarah-even though you feel as terrible as I do, Tim and Michelle who have let me grieve they way I need to grieve. All of your kind words, thoughts, prayers, gifts of wonderful energy are so appreciated. If you’d said to me some ten years ago that I would experience the death of an animal companion and grieve so profoundly, I would have said, “Poppycock! How self-indulgent!”

We invite these animal companions into our lives and they become part of our family, even part of our identity. People here in Ladysmith are used to seeing me out and about with Gracie. This wonderful town is pretty dog-friendly. I could take her into the pet store, drugstore, butchers, café as well as other places. If Gracie wasn’t with me they’d ask after her.

I’ve had ‘pets’ come and go throughout of my life. But I’ve never felt so much pain and grief as I have with the death of my Gracie. She was to me a magnificent wee dog! She brought laughter to me when I was miserable. She brought warmth and healing when I was ill. She was my protector after my breakup nearly five years ago. She gave me reason to get up in the morning; she had to go out. She would bring one of her toys for me to play with her when I wasn’t feeling playful. She was a kindred spirit and, I believe, one of my soulmates through many incarnations.

She had her quirks, too! She didn’t like strange little elderly ladies. She’d growl and sometimes even go ballistic! She really didn’t care for little children either. Probably because they had a tendency to dive into her face. She’d growl at a child who was nearby in anticipation. She was also terrified of anything on wheels.

Since moving to our current apartment more than two years ago, Gracie stopped sleeping with me. Instead she would wait, every night, for the sound of Sarah’s car engine. Even after Sarah had traded her car in, it only took less than a week for Gracie to know the change. She would hear the car engine coming around the back of the building and start to growl and tremble working herself up into a frenzy so that when Sarah came through the door she’d fly off the couch (not good for Doxies by the way) with an explosion of barking. She had this very cute, what I called, hound bark. It was different from any other bark. It was a joyful bark.

So after spending the day with me she’d snuggle up to Sarah, just waiting for that moment when it was time to go out and then off to bed. She’d often even lead the way to bed! She loved sleeping with Sarah. And I know that Sarah misses that company.

I miss Gracie more than I can describe. Her last 2 ½ weeks were filled with inexplicable, excruciating pain. For the first few days, because I had been in and out of hospital myself, Sarah took on being nurse for both Gracie and me. After a few days I took over the night shifts. It would mean waiting up until midnight to give her pain meds and being woken either by alarm or her alarming screaming between 3am – 4am for another dose of meds; then a repeat at 7am – 8am. And the same throughout the day. It would mean cradling her through the gap between doses when the drugs wore thin.

On Good Friday she was inconsolable. When Sarah came home and neither of us, nor the drugs, could console her we agreed it had come time to say goodbye unless the Vet could assure us that she’d get better. I emphasize Good because the majority of Good Fridays throughout my life have been peppered with some sort of pain or sorrow. I can actually say I dread Easter as it approaches every year!

She’d been diagnosed with an injured neck. Likely caused with all the carfuffle the night I was taken to the hospital. We even thought it might be sympathy sickness. Then she was diagnosed with an infection. Then back to her neck. Then a stomach ulcer was added to the list. The new Vet at Chemainus Animal Hospital was not the sort I’d ever see again! He was filling in for our/Gracie’s favourite Vet, Dr. J. Pollock. The only words I can come up with without being crass that describe him are self-righteous and mean! He lectured me for giving Gracie a particular treat. It was the only treat that her sensitive tummy could stand during her short life. Apparently when I’d left her with him she crapped all over the floor and because the treat was charcoal-based her poop was blackened which was always the case even when she was healthy. So he diagnosed her with a stomach ulcer, likely caused from the Prednisone he’d put her on for her neck. He was then obviously angry because that ruined his quick diagnosis. Her poop wasn’t black because of the presence of blood in it. It was the treats!

Then in the last few days he lectured me, quite firmly shall we say, for giving Gracie too much pain meds. They weren’t working! What else could I do? They also sent us home over the previous weeks with THREE different syringes which were labelled completely differently. So it would have been easy to mix up the dosage because one syringe measured ml while the other measured cc and yet another measured both. The instructions were to give her between 3 – 5 ml. That was easy enough for me. I even used one syringe to measure out and compare to the others. Just so I didn’t accidentally overdose her. And then he said that she should be able to get through with only the Fentanyl patch. it was applied the day prior to her death. No need for other drugs!!! He was so controlling that he sent her home with me on that last Thursday with only 5 pre-filled syringes with pain meds. By Friday night there were only two left. I told him it wouldn’t be enough. I told him I was concerned that since it was the long weekend that we’d be left without proper support. But he said I was abusing the drugs! I told him that he had not given enough meds to get her through until the Fentanyl kicked in – if it kicked in! But he was right and I was stupid!!! But I know he was NOT right. And I am NOT stupid.

The final Vet, Dr. Wiley at Duncan Animal Hospital saw Gracie in her tortured and well-drugged state and could see she was in agony. She felt strongly that all previous diagnoses were incorrect and after checking Gracie’s neck for movement said it was likely neurologically based and likely an advanced case of Cryptococcosis. There was no hope for Gracie. It had gone too long.

I’ve spent some time (as long as my sadness could allow at a time) researching Cryptococcosis. It is possible that Gracie had picked up the fungal infection up to nearly a year ago. She may have had none or only the occasional symptom in that time. But it’s a weird infection in that it can sit dormant and then go crazy in the system.

So we said goodbye. I have only ever experienced that much grief when my parents died. No other person, and certainly no other pet could equal the amount of pain I’ve felt. I remember feeling like the grief of the collapse of my last marriage was horrible. But losing Gracie has gone way beyond that.

She is gone! I believe that she and I have travelled together through other lifetimes and we will again; perhaps, as Sarah told me at the time, even this lifetime again. Who knows? There is a great deal of controversy as to whether or not dogs, or animals in general, have souls. In the words of Allen and Linda Anderson in the book Saying Goodbye to your Angel Animals:

We believe that animals don’t have a soul. Animals ARE souls. We believe that animals and humans are cut from the same Divine cloth by the same Divine hand. As souls, we are all one; we are all interconnected. Each soul experiences life in whatever way serves it best spiritually in this lifetime…All souls grow spiritually in the sweet garden of unconditional love – an aspect of life in which animals tend to excel. Animals are masters at loving as God loves, unconditionally.

I believe that every person we have ANY contact with in our lifetimes are bound to us, and us to them, with a Sacred Contract.  There are many authors out there to study. My favourite is Dr. Caroline Myss.

The Andersons go on to say that There are profoundly sacred agreements that two souls, wearing the physical bodies of different species, can keep with each other.

I am so grateful for the nearly eight years we’ve had this time around. And although I will miss her terribly for a while and tons for the rest, I know we chose the best possible and merciful action. We couldn’t stand to watch our precious sweet, sweet girl suffering with no hope of alleviation.

We plan to have a memorial ceremony at which time we will bury her ashes. This will likely happen in June or July and will be officiated by one of my fellow Life-Cycle Celebrants™, Ceri Peacey. More details to follow. We have chosen the pet companion urn we will use for Gracie as well. This will be purchased from Honor Your Pet Aftercare Services.

To my sweet, sweet baby girl,

Gracie, when unexpected, you brought tears of joy to my sad eyes. You and your cute little bear-like paws. You allowed us to dress you up in an Elf/Santa’s Helper outfit at Christmas. You gladly wore some ugly sweaters until we found the best one that fit your long back and personality. You showed us that there is immense joy in the simple things; like a stinky, ripped-to-pieces piece of material that once resembled a squeaky animal toy that you disembowelled within minutes of receiving it as a gift.

You came into our lives as the runt of the litter. You left our lives leaving the biggest hole in our hearts. You came to us at just the right moment. But we feel you left us too soon! I know you didn’t really. That this was the agreed-to contract between us. I’d just hoped for another ten years at least.

I miss you terribly, my little darling.

Love Always,

Your Daddy

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Saying Goodbye

It has been three months since I last wrote anything for my blog. I've been wrapped up in life and have neglected my Craft. And I can only offer excuses and not reasons for not taking 15 - 30 minutes - even every few days. Really! I love writing and the truth is I have tons of excuses but only one real reason...laziness!

I have a two-fold purpose for this posting:

• To say thank you
• To try to say goodbye

So let's start with Thank you. Thank you to each and everyone one who has been so supportive to Sarah and me. And a special thank you goes to Sarah-even though you feel as terrible as I do, Tim and Michelle who have let me grieve they way I need to grieve. All of your kind words, thoughts, prayers, gifts of wonderful energy are so appreciated. If you'd said to me some ten years ago that I would experience the death of an animal companion and grieve so profoundly, I would have said, "Poppycock! How self-indulgent!"

We invite these animal companions into our lives and they become part of our family, even part of our identity. People here in Ladysmith are used to seeing me out and about with Gracie. This wonderful town is pretty dog-friendly. I could take her into the pet store, drugstore, butchers, café as well as other places. If Gracie wasn't with me they'd ask after her.

I've had 'pets' come and go throughout of my life. But I've never felt so much pain and grief as I have with the death of my Gracie. She was to me a magnificent wee dog! She brought laughter to me when I was miserable. She brought warmth and healing when I was ill. She was my protector after my breakup nearly five years ago. She gave me reason to get up in the morning; she had to go out. She would bring one of her toys for me to play with her when I wasn't feeling playful. She was a kindred spirit and, I believe, one of my soulmates through many incarnations.

She had her quirks, too! She didn't like strange little elderly ladies. She'd growl and sometimes even go ballistic! She really didn't care for little children either. Probably because they had a tendency to dive into her face. She'd growl at a child who was nearby in anticipation. She was also terrified of anything on wheels.

Since moving to our current apartment more than two years ago, Gracie stopped sleeping with me. Instead she would wait, every night, for the sound of Sarah's car engine. Even after Sarah had traded her car in, it only took less than a week for Gracie to know the change. She would hear the car engine coming around the back of the building and start to growl and tremble working herself up into a frenzy so that when Sarah came through the door she'd fly off the couch (not good for Doxies by the way) with an explosion of barking. She had this very cute, what I called, hound bark. It was different from any other bark. It was a joyful bark.

So after spending the day with me she'd snuggle up to Sarah, just waiting for that moment when it was time to go out and then off to bed. She'd often even lead the way to bed! She loved sleeping with Sarah. And I know that Sarah misses that company.

I miss Gracie more than I can describe. Her last 2 ½ weeks were filled with inexplicable, excruciating pain. For the first few days, because I had been in and out of hospital myself, Sarah took on being nurse for both Gracie and me. After a few days I took over the night shifts. It would mean waiting up until midnight to give her pain meds and being woken either by alarm or her alarming screaming between 3am - 4am for another dose of meds; then a repeat at 7am - 8am. And the same throughout the day. It would mean cradling her through the gap between doses when the drugs wore thin.

On Good Friday she was inconsolable. When Sarah came home and neither of us, nor the drugs, could console her we agreed it had come time to say goodbye unless the Vet could assure us that she'd get better. I emphasize Good because the majority of Good Fridays throughout my life have been peppered with some sort of pain or sorrow. I can actually say I dread Easter as it approaches every year!

She'd been diagnosed with an injured neck. Likely caused with all the carfuffle the night I was taken to the hospital. We even thought it might be sympathy sickness. Then she was diagnosed with an infection. Then back to her neck. Then a stomach ulcer was added to the list. The new Vet at Chemainus Animal Hospital was not the sort I'd ever see again! He was filling in for our/Gracie's favourite Vet, Dr. J. Pollock. The only words I can come up with without being crass that describe him are self-righteous and mean! He lectured me for giving Gracie a particular treat. It was the only treat that her sensitive tummy could stand during her short life. Apparently when I'd left her with him she crapped all over the floor and because the treat was charcoal-based her poop was blackened which was always the case even when she was healthy. So he diagnosed her with a stomach ulcer, likely caused from the Prednisone he'd put her on for her neck. He was then obviously angry because that ruined his quick diagnosis. Her poop wasn't black because of the presence of blood in it. It was the treats!

Then in the last few days he lectured me, quite firmly shall we say, for giving Gracie too much pain meds. They weren't working! What else could I do? They also sent us home over the previous weeks with THREE different syringes which were labelled completely differently. So it would have been easy to mix up the dosage because one syringe measured ml while the other measured cc and yet another measured both. The instructions were to give her between 3 - 5 ml. That was easy enough for me. I even used one syringe to measure out and compare to the others. Just so I didn't accidentally overdose her. And then he said that she should be able to get through with only the Fentanyl patch. it was applied the day prior to her death. No need for other drugs!!! He was so controlling that he sent her home with me on that last Thursday with only 5 pre-filled syringes with pain meds. By Friday night there were only two left. I told him it wouldn't be enough. I told him I was concerned that since it was the long weekend that we'd be left without proper support. But he said I was abusing the drugs! I told him that he had not given enough meds to get her through until the Fentanyl kicked in - if it kicked in! But he was right and I was stupid!!! But I know he was NOT right. And I am NOT stupid.

The final Vet, Dr. Wiley at Duncan Animal Hospital saw Gracie in her tortured and well-drugged state and could see she was in agony. She felt strongly that all previous diagnoses were incorrect and after checking Gracie's neck for movement said it was likely neurologically based and likely an advanced case of Cryptococcosis. There was no hope for Gracie. It had gone too long.

I've spent some time (as long as my sadness could allow at a time) researching Cryptococcosis. It is possible that Gracie had picked up the fungal infection up to nearly a year ago. She may have had none or only the occasional symptom in that time. But it's a weird infection in that it can sit dormant and then go crazy in the system.

So we said goodbye. I have only ever experienced that much grief when my parents died. No other person, and certainly no other pet could equal the amount of pain I've felt. I remember feeling like the grief of the collapse of my last marriage was horrible. But losing Gracie has gone way beyond that.

She is gone! I believe that she and I have travelled together through other lifetimes and we will again; perhaps, as Sarah told me at the time, even this lifetime again. Who knows? There is a great deal of controversy as to whether or not dogs, or animals in general, have souls. In the words of Allen and Linda Anderson in the book Saying Goodbye to your Angel Animals:

We believe that animals don't have a soul. Animals ARE souls. We believe that animals and humans are cut from the same Divine cloth by the same Divine hand. As souls, we are all one; we are all interconnected. Each soul experiences life in whatever way serves it best spiritually in this lifetime...All souls grow spiritually in the sweet garden of unconditional love - an aspect of life in which animals tend to excel. Animals are masters at loving as God loves, unconditionally.

I believe that every person we have ANY contact with in our lifetimes are bound to us, and us to them, with a Sacred Contract.  There are many authors out there to study. My favourite is Dr. Caroline Myss.

The Andersons go on to say that There are profoundly sacred agreements that two souls, wearing the physical bodies of different species, can keep with each other.

I am so grateful for the nearly eight years we've had this time around. And although I will miss her terribly for a while and tons for the rest, I know we chose the best possible and merciful action. We couldn't stand to watch our precious sweet, sweet girl suffering with no hope of alleviation.

We plan to have a memorial ceremony at which time we will bury her ashes. This will likely happen in June or July and will be officiated by one of my fellow Life-Cycle Celebrants™, Ceri Peacey. More details to follow. We have chosen the pet companion urn we will use for Gracie as well. This will be purchased from Honor Your Pet Aftercare Services.

To my sweet, sweet baby girl,

Gracie, when unexpected, you brought tears of joy to my sad eyes. You and your cute little bear-like paws. You allowed us to dress you up in an Elf/Santa's Helper outfit at Christmas. You gladly wore some ugly sweaters until we found the best one that fit your long back and personality. You showed us that there is immense joy in the simple things; like a stinky, ripped-to-pieces piece of material that once resembled a squeaky animal toy that you disembowelled within minutes of receiving it as a gift.

You came into our lives as the runt of the litter. You left our lives leaving the biggest hole in our hearts. You came to us at just the right moment. But we feel you left us too soon! I know you didn't really. That this was the agreed-to contract between us. I'd just hoped for another ten years at least.

I miss you terribly, my little darling.

Love Always,

Your Daddy

Where Have All the Writers Gone?

I’m often fascinated by numbers, especially when they show up like today’s date–06.01.06. It probably means absolutely nothing. On the other hand it can mean whatever someone wants it to mean. That’s when I really understand that we create our own reality–through interpretation. I can walk by a lady who has a glaring look and think she’s angry at me, or someone, or the world! Or, perhaps it’s the only looks that she has. Or, perhaps she is upset and needs a jolly “hello!’’ and a big smile. I’ve on occasion gotten a thrill out of the person’s reaction to that jolly ”hello!”, like almost dropping what they’re carrying or tripping or suddenly becoming aware that they have a face like thunder. It may only be that they aren’t present to the here and now and are elsewhere in their thoughts. But I can still interpret it as I will.
It’s the same with texting and emails. People saying one thing and the reader interprets a totally different thing. I’ve done it and likely will do it again, myself. It depends on my mood, not the sender really. Even if they wanted to sound harsh I could still interpret it as a note that shows them as sad or upset with me or not even anything to do with me. On the other hand they could be expressing something one way and I take total offence to it!
People, today also use texting, especially, to say things that they would never say to someone’s face. It’s akin to liquor. The inhibitions seem to be lowered.
That said I’ve noticed that ‘the art of writing’ is gone and a lot of text messages don’t even flow. The emoticons or shortened words like the letter ‘u’ = you, or ‘w’ = with or ‘nvm’ = never mind or ‘OMG’ = Oh my God! So there is no real craft in what is being written anymore, which it then takes away purposeful or wonderful for artful communication. After all it wasn’t all that many years ago, before texting, before email, that letterwriting was TAUGHT in school and everyone used it to chat to relatives, loved ones, friends and associates across the globe.
It was before my time, but men and women became smitten by artful writing, leading to courtship, then to engagement and marriage. If I were to announce to my kids, or anyone for that matter, that I had started to corresponding with a potential mate, became smitten and was now engaged without ever having spoken, texted or emailed I would be deemed as nuts-period! You didn’t have to be an artist (writer) to do this. You just have to be passionate enough to be able to express your feelings. Not writing so that someone would interpret what they think you were saying-plain and simple!
I can remember when I started recording cassette tapes with Mum to Nana. I still have many that were returned from Nana although I have no way of playing them back now. It was so ‘cool’ to hear her voice and laugh and communicate expression that way. It would cost an absolute bundle now to send cassette tapes via our dear Canada Post.
But why bother when you have a email or texting???


My Journal January 6th, 2016


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Jeremiah 29:11 – A New View for Me

Over the last 5+ years there has been a verse from the Old Testament of the Bible that has come up again and again. I believe that it was being given to me by the Universe/God/Goddess/whatever your favourite title is. After the first couple of instances I had a knowing that this was a promise being made to me.

But it wasn’t until Mid November 2015 that it suddenly jumped out at me with new meaning and conviction. On the morning of the 14^th, I was starting my day, the way I often do, with writing in my journal and quiet time. I had been quite down for the past several days. I was questioning ‘why?’ – a really good sign that I’m feeling sorry for myself. As many of you will remember, Friday the 13^th was the day that ISIS struck at the heart of Paris. I had been glued to the TV all day and was very emotional. I have such a struggle trying to make sense of such senseless violence, or any violent act really.

See, I believe with all my heart that we ALL are, at the very centre of ourselves, our Soul, our Higher Self, naturally good. I find it so difficult to understand what would drive that goodness so deep that the only thing left is a 21 year old blowing themselves up for a cause that is so disturbed.

That aside, I had been in the dumps for days. So watching this horror in Paris just added to the blackness in my mind. So when I arose on the Saturday I didn’t turn on the TV to see what the latest developments were, I went to my quiet time.

I had had a very physically painful night and very little sleep as a result. It is hard to understand nerve pain unless you have felt it. The only way I can describe it to people is to say that it feels like I’ve been plugged into a wall socket and the ‘buzzing’ feeling that results just doesn’t quit. There is no switch to turn it off. Although I know the risks of modern medication, I am grateful for it; because without I would surely go insane – literally!

I wrote in my journal about the events of the past few days, the pain I was enduring once again, the misery in France – generally feeling super sorry for myself and then beating myself up for feeling this way because here I was comfortable and safe while Parisians were living in terror. Then out of the blue I heard the verse come to me again. I say again, because it has been part of the RIDE for the past few years:

I know the plans I have for you,
to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you hope and a future.

With it came the following. The BOLD words are the ‘new’ version I was sensing:

I, your Soul, your Higher Self, know the plans and contracts I have for you,
to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you hope and a future.

Knowing this ‘Interpretation’ of Jeremiah 29:11 is it now more empowering for me. I see that because it is a message for me it is also a message from me. It shows me that I have had a large part in planning all of this; that I chose this path before my incarnation to this life.

• It shows me that my Higher Self or Soul (me) have made these plans = contracts.
• It shows me the plan is: To prosper me!
• It shows me that no real harm can come to me because my Soul cannot be harmed.
  • My body and all its issues are not me
  • My mind, depression, sorrow and grief, are not me
  • I can deal with these feelings about the past, my health, my finances, my vocation and I must. But I am not these issues.
  • They are just energy that swirl around me, trying to deceive me into believing me this is the way it is. But it’s not! I am not any of these; therefore it is not the way for me.

The last part was still a bit vague but I trusted and continued to write. To give you hope and future. Is it perhaps just that simple?

• Are the keywords here give you, as in a gift?
• Perhaps all I need do is accept this gift and realize that although my Finite Incarnation (my brain) doesn’t get it, that my Infinite Self, my Soul, My Higher Self does get it.
• Perhaps all I need do is accept the gift. Can it be that easy? Is it that easy?

Well I’m not going to refuse a gift, so then that leaves me with “I will and do accept this gift”.

I ask my guides to help me understand it and use it in the way my soul planned for me to use it.

From My Journal, November 14^th, 2015

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Dreamers, Greatness & Choice

I used this gem back in October 2013. I didn’t say very much about it; only one or two sentences. In life we have many choices. We can choose greatness or not. We can choose this person or that person to be romantically involved with. We can choose this career or that career. We can choose to drive a Chevy or a VW. The list of choices is endless really. And we tend to judge ourselves and others, especially loved ones, by the choices we make. Even making no choice at all is a choice.



So many of us have been caught up in the ‘greatness’  charismatic movements over the last few years because we feel that we are NOT making the right choices. We are not living with great wealth. We are in a career that sucks us dry instead of fills us with joy. We are with the wrong mate for whatever reason. We are obviously failing with our choices because we don’t have the millions in the bank, the BMW, the mansion, the other properties, the……

I know, because I’ve been caught up in some of these movements, even though my heart was screaming at me to run the other way. In trying to create wealth all I did was create debt by buying all the CD’s, courses, and ‘tools’ needed to succeed. In the last few years I have realized a new meaning to success. First of all, I realized that the way success looks to each of us is as different as the faces who see it. I am a successful parent; my children are growing and are living good lives. I am a successful janitor because I can look back at my shift and know I’ve done my very best. I’m a successful stay-at-home parent because I have created a home that is safe and loving. It can look very different to each person.

I believe that my life is really starting to show the results of changing some of my choices. For me success is satisfaction, joy, peace – a feeling that my life emulates what my heart strives for. One of those pieces for me was to let go of people who did not help to build me up. It is so easy to beat myself up; to see only my ‘failures’. I don’t like that word actually. I no longer believe there is such a thing as failure; just choices. Failure is a judgement call. And we all know what judgement feels like – especially self-judgement.

Today, I am so grateful for the friends I have because they do see greatness within me. I am so grateful for my children who have been my anchor over the last few years. I am so grateful for a job that allows me to express my greatness through my gifts and abilities. No, I’m not rich. No, I’m not a CEO of a mega-corporation. No I’m not what I even thought I’d be now when I look back to what I thought was greatness in my 20’s.

What I am is at peace with myself, my Creator, my surroundings, my professional life, my family and friends. I am truly blessed to be surrounded by people who see greatness in me. What about you?


Dreamers, Greatness & Choice