Midlife and a ton of bricks

Welcome friends. This blog is about 2 years in the making. But it is happening, tonight. I declared to my accountability friend that I was giving myself 18 hours to get this post visible to the public eye. No more dawdling. I’d rather pound back some Starbucks Pike while defrosting my freezer, but here we are.

I felt a tremendous amount of pressure to decide what this first post should be about…and don’t even get me started on the title. I’m sure none of y’all care that much. But as someone who is insanely deliberate with my actions, or inactions for that matter, I am really throwing caution in to the wind.

I will start with a little introduction. Hi *insert wavey hand emoji* I am a momma from Canada. I am married and have 4 kids, and a farm (can’t take much credit for the whole farm thing) if it was up to me, I would just grow succulents and morning glories.

Up until 2-3 years ago that would have been my intro. Plain and simple. But then midlife hit (or what I attribute to be midlife). At first it felt like a tap on the shoulder. Then a whap across the head with a flip flop (the foamy kind, not like a Birkenstock…that came later) and then it was like a ton of bricks. Something that took me out and destroyed everything that I thought was true and certain and left me for dead. And I have been digging myself out every since.

Much has happened since that shit ton…(that is a standardized unit of measurement, I hear)…hit home. I have embarked on a solo trip to Peru, hiked the West Coast Trail and numerous other trails. Attended Yoga Teacher Training, and taken part in psilocybin and sweat lodge ceremonies, shamanic healings, life coaching sessions and have written half of a memoir. I have found the courage to set down my heavily armoured baggage of childhood trauma that I have been packing around with me my whole life, trusting that I no longer need it. Depression and I are on speaking terms strictly based on a one-day-at-a-time arrangement. The one thing that I am still resisting is for others to hear my voice. Trusting that I have something of value and importance to share and say. And so it begins…

Deep Bow in Gratitude,

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