The Art of Self-Care

There is something to be said about having a place to go to, a place that actually feels like home.  In a world that seems like it's getting more chaotic by the day, we each need to find a place that gives us peace, that will help us ground and centre ourselves again.  A place that helps you to feel whole and not empty, and builds your energy for the next day and doesn't deplete it.  A space that is special and unique to only you, where you feel like you can shut the rest of the world out and just take care of yourself for a change.  I never thought I would say or think something so profound about a single-occupant apartment in Vancouver, yet it is exactly how I feel about my home.

At night when I get in after work, I let out a big sigh of relief and shut the door to the entire world.  I stay by myself mostly and that's just the way I want it.  I felt guilty at first when I couldn't stop myself from feeling so much freedom in closing off everything and everyone.  I thought to myself "well shouldn't I be wanting to have all my friends around me now that I have my own place?  Shouldn't I want to be the inviting, party-organizing social type of gal I used to be?"  But I've learned to let myself be, to not push myself to try to fulfill anyone else's expectations, and to wait for the intuitive signals to come to me naturally.  So far though I haven't heard any of my guides directing me to plan a shake-down for all my gal-pals!  Nope, instead they are telling me that it is perfectly alright to lock myself in my apartment and not come out all weekend long if I don't want to.  In fact, they are telling me that it is very HEALTHY!  And I know they are right because I am feeling so much stronger than even three months ago, and so much better about life in general.  So this is the art of self-care.  It's learning to let go of the pressure that even your good friends can put on you without knowing they are doing it, and the pressure that you put on yourself for not being the person you used to be.  It's accepting and learning about the New You and giving yourself as much time and space as you need to do it.  And it's about finding a serene space to do it in. 

Poking around home has never been so great!  The other day when we turned our clocks ahead, I sat all weekend long in my apartment leaving only to do the mandatory weekend grocery shopping.  I stretched and did yoga, watched movies, gave myself a facelift, slept long into the mornings and took siestas, ate healthy, drank tea, read my new book, played on the computer, turned up the volume and danced and sang to Tiesto, text messaged only when it was mandatory, and called absolutely no one at all.  It was heaven!  I can tell that some of my friends are taking offence to my vacancy from their lives.  Before I would have said "Sorry, I'm being anti-social".  But I think I'm formally changing my excuse now to: "I am practicing Self-Care".  Thank you very much!

Relatively few have actually been into my apartment, and I like it that way.  I think I'd still get all wiggy if I had a variety of energies and personalities in my home.  But I've happily started looking at bbq's and patio tables to place on my big wooden patio, and maybe by summer I'll feel friendly enough to invite some old friends over.  I bought a rake for my garden and cleaned out all the winter leaves and dead weeds.  It is getting warm enough now that I can step outside my sliding glass doors and meander around without my shoes on, and heck!  It's even warm enough that the other day I ventured out in my undies and tank top to get a closer look at the new leaves and blossoms on the bushes in my garden.  (But just for a minute, hee hee!)  Think of it!  All in the privacy of my own home!  I am also starting to date just a little here and there, and I am feeling an openness in my heart that I didn't think would ever come back.  Little by little there is more sunlight in my life and body, but it's me who is allowing it in because I finally feel strong enough to do that now.  Weeknights are booked with things that I like to do for myself, such as ashtanga yoga or conversational Spanish, and when I get home afterwards I really have to say that the last thing I feel like doing is getting on the phone and catching up with people.  Uh-uh!  Instead, I find myself quickly getting a restful state and hitting the hay pretty early.  Yeah, I know it's not an exciting life I am leading at the moment.  But whatever it is, I am doing it at my own pace and I am doing it only because, simply, I feel like doing it.  I am seriously digging not having to be concerned with anyone else.  It is very liberating.
Some of you might actually read this and consider me selfish.  I'm sorry, but I really I don't care. 

Last weekend I lamented the idea of going to Victoria to visit with my parents who had been staying there for a month, and to attending a christening for my new baby niece, Shayda.  Not that I didn't want to do those things specifically, but I really just wasn't into being social or into having to provide excuses for why I wasn't in the care-free emotional space that people thought I should be.  I told myself that no one would understand me, my family least of all, and so why should I come out of my perfect, secure hiding space to face them all?  With anxiety still weighing heavily on my chest, I took a Harbour Air flight across the water to Victoria, and lo and behold I was delighted when I saw my dad and brother waiting for me at the harbour. We all spent a wonderful weekend together: my mom and dad, my brother and his wife Sharon, and my 3 year old nephew and 8 month old niece, whose christening we all celebrated with happiness.  I left Victoria with a renewed feeling of lightness and love, and I remembered how lucky I am to have my family.  I learned that it's not just my loved ones and friends who sometimes have expectations of me.  It's actually sometimes me who is the hardest on myself. 

My mom and my niece, 8 month old Shayda

So I think I can sum this post up and say that I am getting to a really healthy place in my life.  I'm taking care of myself first and I'm not apologizing for it.  But don't let your dancing shoes and party hats get too dusty, because that part of me is still alive and well.  It's just that, well, I'm having too much friggin' fun right now looking out for my Self. 

And that's all.  :)

Charleen xo

43 - Dear Me!

Dear Me is right.  :)

Seems like simply saying "dear me!" is an appropriate way to celebrate turning 43, don't you agree?  Back in the day I wanted to make a big deal out of my birthday.  Nowadays I just don't.  I don't know if it's so much an "age" thing, although there is definitely an element of disbelief when I see a 4 and a 3 stuck together and then realize that's my age.  But, to be even more clear, it honestly seems to be more like a feeling of not wanting to celebrate me any longer.  I admit it. 

But I do celebrate myself, just not like I used to.  Last night I lit some candles and took a long hot bath - my new "necessary" spa treatment.  I sit in the hot water and think, let my thoughts come and go, heal.  At 43 I am starting to be a quirky bachlorette. I admit that too.

Today I think I'll really celebrate myself by taking myself to a yoga class at lunchtime.  Some of you might screw up your nose at that suggestion, especially when I've been asked to go to lunch by a couple well-wishers and I'm declining.  I don't know but that's all I want to do, all I feel like doing.  Isn't it absolutely perfect to do exactly what one wants to do on their birthday? 

My birth-mom, Sheila, sent me an ecard this morning, and friendly friends from Facebook have messaged me.  Text messages and BBM's, emails from people at work who somehow discovered it was my birthday.  Friends that I haven't heard from all year and who live far away somehow pull out the stops to remind me that they are thinking of me, flattering me with words like "Another year younger!", or "You're a puma, not a cougar!  Puma's are sexier..."  I think the most special yet was the voice-note from Ranji, and it also reminded me about the cool features my new blackberry has to offer.  All of these greetings have been met with a twinkle of my eye and a warm smile.  I feel loved, remembered even.  And I admit I don't know if I want to be loved or remembered.  Humble doesn't even start to describe how I feel today.

I can't help it - one of the things that I think about is how my ex, for the third year in a row, has not wished me well on my birthday.  That one stings so badly that even the thought of it brings hot tears to my eyes and I'm forced to fight them back while sitting here at my desk at work.  I am then forced to replace those thoughts with things like: He's not worth the thought!  Or: You don't want to hear from him anyways, that would ruin your day!  Or: think of all the great friends you have!  I often wonder about the battle of trying to fill my thoughts with other thoughts just to replace the feelings that go with them.  Like it's some sort of a competition or something.  Why not just admit how I feel?  Are my thoughts really so bad?  I guess what I think is most remarkable about that process is just the fact that my thoughts are so easily replaced nowadays.  I am quickly relieved and don't feel crappy for long.  Self-judgment doesn't hang around all day like it used to.  I just simply let it go.  One day, I suppose, I won't have any of those types of thoughts at all.  One day.

Friends want to do dinner with me tonight, and even this I have a hard time accepting.  One wants to take me to lunch and I feel guilty for saying yes.  All these things are playing with my mind today.  Why can't I easily accept that I deserve it?  Alas, at 43 I really have to take control of those thoughts that tell me that I'm not a good person, not worthy, not "successful", not anything...

I know they're not the truth.

My brother is in town and wants to go for coffee, and it will be nice to see him - my sweet kid brother with the big heart and the laugh that comes easily.  The guy who stood up for me ferociously when I told him about my separation.  I will always remember that.  I have a lot to learn from him.  When I look at him I think that life is really good. 

With a busy week ahead at work and a trip to the Netherlands to look forward to, I am more than happy to let this day quietly slip by.  Although it is nice to recognize it, even just a little.  I'll accept that.  That feels alright.

I'll accept me.  :)

Charleen xo

No Regrets

Did I mention that one of my "intents" for the New Year is to do a major purge?  I want to unload a ton of stuff!  The best time to do this is when you are moving, or have just moved.  So it's perfect timing for me and I am starting right NOW. 

My new home in South Granville

I'm feeling a little aggressive about it actually, like I just can't wait to get it done!  After 3 weeks in my new home and finally having unpacked all of my essentials, I am eager to forge through this next huge job and get it crossed off my list once and for all.  For all those months that I sat quietly, I am now ready to get busy on this!  And considering how much energy it takes to load even one box onto a dolly and cart it into my suite, I will be glad to get rid of all of them!  Either I'm getting old or I am just seriously out of shape, because I just can't stand lifting heavy boxes anymore.  The thought of carting all of that extra baggage around with me makes me feel kindof nauseous actually.  Whatever the reason, it is a good enough excuse for me to want to get rid of almost everything.

But as much as I'd love to do that, I know that I won't.  One has to be practical when purging: what good is getting rid of everything if you're just going to need to go out and get something exactly like it later on?  So last night I carefully, and almost without emotion, went through a total of 7 boxes that I'd brought up from my storage locker in my building, and which I hadn't opened for two years.  After sorting through them, I am happy to report that I am able to get rid of two right off the bat (if any of you want candle holders or paperback books, speak now or forever hold your peace!).  One big box will go back to my ex.  I'm tired of keeping around all those memories, and they've been weighing me down in a major way.  Obviously this process is completely attached to my emotional well-being and spiritual growth, too.

I love the patio the most...

And let's just talk about that for a minute, shall we?  Those memories that I've packed up in a box to be sent back include lots of beautiful pictures (wedding and otherwise), cd's, books, trinkets, cards that I kept (yes, I'm a little sentimental), and the DVD of our wedding ceremony in Ibiza.  While all the rest definitely triggered some emotion from me, that one little flat disc that takes up so very little space in a box actually was the thing that took up the most amount of space in my heart.  When I dug it out of one of the boxes, I knew it had to be done.  I popped it into my blue ray and sat down on my living room floor with a box of Kleenex and big piece of organic chocolate to watch, for the last time, my wedding ceremony.  It made me laugh, it made me cry.  I am now more touched than ever with the energy that my two best friends, Mark and Leigh, put out to come to Ibiza and celebrate alongside of us.  I remember being super nervous that day - what bride isn't?  But this time as I watched the DVD I saw a bunch of things that I hadn't noticed before.  For the first time I realized how nervous he was too.  At the time of our wedding I thought he was so calm, so quiet, and so strong.  But as I watched the DVD again I realized his silence was completely due to nervousness!  As the DVD started to play, I once again heard the sound of the crickets that are so common in the heat of the summer in Spain, and felt the peace that I remember washing over the entire group of us while the Mediterranean twinkled up at us.  Bride and Groom looked healthy, vibrant and tanned from lying on the beach in Southern France in the week prior to the wedding.  We were in our prime.  It still brought tears to my eyes, hearing us read the vows we wrote for one another.  There were funny parts as well, and this time I giggled out loud while watching them.  After the ceremony we both seemed like ourselves again, and super charged because of what we'd just achieved.  

Today I have to honestly say that I have no feelings of regret.  Watching that DVD again was definitely something that I had to do.  Thankfully I'm not destroyed by it; I'm not even close to falling to pieces.  I am a little blue, but I'm also happy; happy for what we both created on that cliff side, and for the intention that was put into it.  And I guess most importantly for me in all this is that, after watching that DVD, I can no longer tell myself that I am a failure at love.  I'm pretty good at love actually.  I may not be the easiest person to get to know, but love?  Why heck, that's easy.

My little kitchen

What a great load to get off my back!  Just like the boxes in my storage locker that are weighing me down and need to be purged, I've gotten what I needed from that DVD and I'm now more than happy to unload it.  It's time it found a new home.

My girlfriend Brenda always reminds me that when one door shuts, another one opens.  It's just that this one particular door has been so heavy and wide that I haven't been able to shut it very easily.  I've definitely gathered a lot of strength and wisdom in trying to push it closed though, and that is a good thing.  I think perhaps one of the hardest parts about being a human being is the pain that we each have to endure in order to learn something, in order to grow.  It is painful, yet at the same time it is also so damn beautiful.  Lessons like these.... well, they really are the reason why we are here, aren't they?

As soon as I'm finished going through my storage locker here at home, I will go back out to my big, ugly storage locker in South Van and purge all of what remains there, too.  This is a job that I'm going to work diligently at until it's done.  I have no more time or energy to keep this stuff around, and the longer I wait to clean it out, the longer my healing process will take.  Once that job is done, I will be so happy to finally, and hopefully easily, shut the door to that storage locker, too.

And that will be very soon. 

Charleen xo

A Good Year

All signs point to a good year.  Full speed ahead, Captain!

It's been a long time since I've written and my fingers feel creaky and slow behind my thoughts.   My thoughts seem slow behind my visions.  I have lost my edge.  I'm rusty.

But what better time to decide to take up the activities that you've been missing, or a new pleasure that you've always wanted to try?  Some say they don't make New Years' resolutions.  Okay, we won't call it a "resolution", per say.  We can just call it an "intent".  It is my intent for 2011 to get back into it: the writing, the physical fitness, the living for the moment, and the enjoyment of freedom.

My latest news is that after a long search, many undesirable viewings, and a whole bunch of trips back and forth to the Insecurity Market , I finally found a new home that I can call my own; a little apartment in Vancouver's South Granville area. 

http://southgranville.info/

But what a psychological trip that decision was!  Even after I'd signed the lease I remained nervous, as if all of my basic adult capabilities had gone out the window along with my self-esteem.  I questioned and doubted everything that I was about to do.  What if it's too small?  What if I move in and don't like it?  What if there's something wrong with the place?  What if my neighbours are cranky?  The "what if's" would not stop coming, and on Christmas Day I got knocked down with food poisoning which was the start to an otherwise crappy and super stressful Christmas holiday.  By the time moving day came, I was just an ugly glob of sickly looking mush!  Anyone could have come by and pushed me over with just their finger, that's how weak I felt.  It seemed as if all my hang-ups and fears had come back to haunt me, and they wanted their day of reckoning RIGHT NOW!  Eyes puffy and dark from crying, I felt like the decision to have somewhere I could call "home" had done nothing but open up a disgusting can of worms.   After being sealed tight and stuffed into a storage locker in South Van for almost two years, it seemed like every single box brought a new wave of pain, tears, and self-doubt.  Thankfully, with the help of some good movers and a couple of very good friends who came to my rescue to help me unpack my kitchen just when I thought I was about to lose it (thanks Danielle and Maggie!), I somehow kept it together.   Hyper-sensitive and over-tired, I sliced a chunk off my thumb on New Year's Eve while attempting to make dinner, and  it bled for several hours afterwards.  That too brought upon another surge of tears and the acknowledgment that it could have been so much worse.  After that maneuver I was damn lucky to even have a thumb!  Lying in my deliciously comfy bed which had just been freshly removed from storage, crying my eyes out and holding my wounded thumb in the air feeling sorry for myself, I realized right then that it was actually the epitome of my life.  "It could have been so much worse".  I heard the words ringing in my head.  And in that tiny moment just before my tears stopped rolling down my cheeks and before I finally drifted off to sleep, I understood that it was time to let everything go and to just accept that I was going to be alright.  It was time to accept that everything was, and is, going to work out for me.  I had to accept that there is a perfect plan for me. 

I surrendered.

Now two weeks later and fully back into the swing of things, my boxes are unpacked for the most part (except for several that I unfortunately have no room for and which I have to keep in storage while I go about the chore of purging them, one by one), my home is in order and my life seems like it is taking its own shape again.  I am finally getting back to the gym more often and thoroughly enjoying the Steve Nash Fitness Club in downtown Vancouver, conveniently located only a block and a half away from my office.  I have plans to go dancing with Maggie again this Saturday night at The Commodore (that's right - some things will never change!).  When I come "home" in the evenings, I am able to sit quietly in my own living room, sans roommate and teenaged son, and decide whether to watch TV for awhile, or write in my blog.  I had forgotten what it felt like: the simple pleasure of poking around.  As I look out my 10 foot high windows and onto my just recently scrubbed deck, I feel relaxed and nourished by the privacy of the green trees and plants that surround my home.  I am here at home on a Monday night, fuzzy socks and housecoat on, my dishwasher softly working away in the kitchen.  I think to myself "Wow, what gifts!"  Gifts that I probably took for granted so much in previous years that I didn't even know how to be thankful for them.  And now here I am: Alone.  Single.  Quiet.  Thankful.

Of course no celebration of a new year is complete without at least one outing to go dancing to world class trance music and watch a molto-sexy, world class DJ shake his butt all night long.  And Maggie and I definitely made certain that we sampled every ounce of that kind of experience and went out together on New Years' Day to take in the Markus Schultz concert at Gossip.  We had back stage passes and tons of room for dancing, and even sat around and laughed and chatted with friendly Mr. Schultz before the show.  I normally don't celebrate New Years' Eve - it's so completely overrated.  But New Years' Day with Markus Schultz??  One would have to be just plain crazy to pass over that kind of shake down!

Maggie and Char

Wannabe Rock Stars and current MS Groupies

We love Markus!

On the last night of my Christmas vacation I finally got out to trial-run my new snowboarding gear with my good friend, Mark, up at Cypress Mountain.  On a crystal clear and cold Monday night, we rode the Sky Chair and watched the red sun set behind Bowen Island and Howe Sound.  I realized how bloody lucky I was to be there, alive and healthy.  Why had I never seen how pretty it was before? 

A very cool thing in my life right now is that each Wednesday evening I meet with a new friend, a young man from Valencia, Spain (of all places!) who has come to Vancouver with his girlfriend to work for a year.  He truly wants to speak English as much as possible and in as many situations as possible.  We swap languages and it works out perfectly for both of us.  For awhile there I thought I'd have to give up on Spanish, but now and without any effort at all a new friend has come into my life and he wants exactly what I want.  I am glad about this!

This past weekend I think it really hit home with me how very single I am.  It is so awesome to intuitively do things at my own pace, and without considering someone else's schedule.  It went something like this:

• Friday after work I picked up my new custom made L-Shaped patio bench
• Hung two pieces of art (still have more to do, but whatever)
• Went for a beer at Café Barney – crappy local hangout and the only place in South Gran to grab a pint
• Slept 12 hours
• Woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed, cooked myself French Toast for breakfast and happily ate it at my own table!
• Organized and purged my dresser and closets while listening to an old Ministry of Sound CD at full volume
• Took a long, hot bath with fragrant bath salts
• Skype-called a friend overseas
• Finalized and confirmed my accommodation in both Utrecht and Amsterdam for February
• Drove out to IKEA to purchase some new space savers for my home
• Stopped in at my old place in South Van to pick up mail
• Brought two big garbage bags and a box full of winter clothes and coats to Covenant House (they take donations any time, by the way...)
• Went to a dinner party on Saturday night with the zany photographer man from East Van and his posse
• Sunday a.m. breakfast on East Hastings with East Van Man
• Did all my grocery shopping
• Bought a tarp at 3 Vets to cover my new patio bench
• Came home and scrubbed the crap out of my big awesome patio, and now it is slime-free and super clean and pretty
• Purchased tickets to Sasha at the Commodore for this coming Saturday night (YEEHOO!)
• Took a glorious and rare two hour siesta
• East Van Man helped me to finally hang my spice rack and under-cabinet lighting in my kitchen
• Listened to a full CD of Armin Van Buuren's new "A State of Trance Year Mix 2010", just released December 17 and autographed by Armin himself!
• Cooked dinner for East Van Man while he constructed the pain-in-the-ars dresser from IKEA that I had purchased the day before
• Put remainder of clothes (work out gear) into my new dresser and finally got ALL my suitcases and boxes off the floor
• Took out the garbage and the recycling
• Vacuumed my apartment 
• Loaded all my spices into the spice rack and got rid of another two more boxes
• Cleaned the kitchen
• Watched a movie on my Sony Bravia TV
• Fell asleep around 11:00 pm

Now THAT is a full weekend! 

My face has aged and my body has too. My spine is curled from months of sorrow and self-hatred, and when I look in the mirror I don't see the pretty woman who wrote her own vows of commitment and recited them to her fiancee atop a cliff in the Mediterranean only a few short years ago, thinking "...Now my life is set in stone!"  No, I am not that person any longer. But in my new space I feel like, somehow, I can start to recreate myself again.  Like I can become who I'm really supposed to be and flourish because my choices are my own. Sitting atop my Chintz & Co. fluffy cream coloured sofa that I've just recently rescued from my storage unit, I can't help but think that, simply, the timing is right. It has been long in coming, this rediscovery of Me. And now that I can choose for myself, I know that I will choose a life of freedom, humour, spontaneity, honesty and love. 

And it feels like I really am living it.

Charleen xo

An East Kootenay Thanksgiving

Please do not remind me how long it's been since I have written.  I'm fully aware.

Walking through a park trail in Cranbrook, BC

This is Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada, and it means an extra day off work to relax.  For a lot of us it may also mean getting away and out of town.  For me it means finally coming home to Cranbrook, a town of 20,000 in the East Kootenays, over 800 kms east of Vancouver in a valley nestled between the Rocky Mountains and the Purcells to visit my parents.  It's been over two years since I've been here, and over a year since I've seen my parents.  To say that I've been "estranged" from my family would be an understatement.  I just haven't wanted to see any of them.  It just seems like even talking to them on the phone brings tears to my eyes, and I feel great bunches of remorse, humiliation, and regret in regards to my divorce (now final - August 30).  Being around my family reminded me of all those feelings.  I have wanted to stay far away from them.

But as soon as I saw my dad at the airport yesterday, a big grin on his face, I knew I'd made the right call coming home for the weekend.  I was twice-reminded when I walked through the back door of my house, the same house my parents have lived in for 35 years now and the place that all my brothers and sisters and I call still call "home", and my mom, standing at the top of the porch steps exclaimed "Well it's about time you came to see me!"  She wrapped me up in her arms in a great welcoming bear hug, and I squeezed her back, tears springing to my eyes.  I said "I'm sorry I've been away so long." 

My mom and dad

I also noticed that my mom still had my wedding photos up on her wall, the very sexy and European wedding photos that he and I had taken at our wedding in Ibiza, Spain.  We loved those photos, and I am reminded of our personally written vows to one another and a hand-fasting ceremony, a ceremony we created all on our own.  In the photos I see him looking gently and lovingly into my eyes, and I see that I look the same way upon him.  An entire story runs through my mind when I look at them.  It tears at my heart.  I ask my mom to please take the pictures down because, honestly, I can't stand the sight or sound of him in any way in my life anymore.  My mom smiles lovingly at me and just says "OK".  Without a second thought the pictures come down off that wall.  She immediately replaces the space with pictures of her 8 grand children, my nieces and nephews. 

When I come back to Cranbrook, I am always reminded of the healing effects that I get from the calm and quiet of the East Kootenays, an in nature in general.  I step outside my back door and my little black and white cat, Venus, now 15 years old, jumps down off the warm compost bin she's been sunning herself on and happily struts over to see me.  I hear the birds whistling in the pine trees and the wind moving between the hills, settling in our little valley, and then rolling off towards another hill.  And besides that I hear nothing.  No traffic, no car alarms, rarely a siren.  It is peacful here. 

My cat, Venus

My parent's backyard is one of those rare places that, along with a sunny beach in Ibiza, I escape to in my mind on days back in the city when it gets really stressful.  I picture myself lying in the grass in the sunshine and hearing nothing but calm, and it relaxes me.  This is not just a vision, it is a reality and something I make certain to experience every time I come here.  But visiting here hasn't happened often.  I've stayed away purposely, and I didn't think I could return again for a long time.  Now I hear my mom and dad moving around the house that I grew up in, my mom is stuffing the turkey and my dad is discussing what we should eat for lunch.  Suddenly I feel the need to write again.  To share it all.  It's been a long time.

A view of the back yard - same yard I played in as a child

When one gets wrapped up in the pressures of simply trying to live day to day, one loses her lucidity, her ability to feel that creative flow that makes a good blog post.  Writing is never far from my heart and my mind, but lately it has not been realized in the physical.  I have a lot to say.  I've been thinking a lot.

I have finally, FINALLY, been offered a permanent position with an up and coming mining company downtown, and I am happy for it for more than just the obvious reasons.  The last 22 months have been hard on my heart and my self-esteem, and finally being offered a permanent position somewhere (EA to the CFO) is my first step at settling down.  I almost started crying when my boss, an Aries the same age as me and someone who I have quickly learned I can trust, sat me down in his office and handed me a formal written offer and welcoming package.  Seriously.  I had to excuse myself to regain my composure.  When I got back to his office he joked with me saying "Are those tears of grief??" 

Another Aries in my life, a man who is also teaching me that I can trust again, and someone who is turning out to be a good companion, has also been taking up the other hours in my day.  Those hours meaning: evening and weekends mostly.  Malcolm, the zany artist and photographer from East Van, is teaching me a lot about being accountable in relationship again, standing up on my own two feet, and being strong.  Of course it wouldn't be fair to blame Malcolm for the absence from writing in my blog.  But let's just say he has been doing a good job of occupying my time.  I am not lonely anymore.

Food for Thought:

They say that if you randomly took 100 people on this planet of ours, 6 of them would possess 59% of the world's weath and they would be from the USA.  80 of those 100 people would be living in poverty, and 70 of those 100 would be illiterate.  50 would be living in hunger and malnutrition.  1 would be dying.  1 would be born.  Only 1 would own a computer, and only 1 would have a university degree.

Further, they say that if you woke up this morning in good health then you are luckier than 1 million people who will die this week.  If you've never experienced war, prison, torture, or have been close to dying from starvation, then you're better off than 500 million other people.  If you have a full fridge (or even a fridge half full), clothes on your back, a roof over your head and a place to sleep, then you are wealthier than 75% of the world's population.  Yes, if you currently have even a little bit of money in the bank and a few coins in your wallet then you are one out of 8 privileged people in 100. 

If your parents are still alive and still married then you are a very rare and lucky individual.

I would fall under all those categories.  I try to remind myself daily of all the things that I should be thankful for, and to replace negative thoughts with positive ones.  I remember how difficult life must be for others living on the other side of the world, but I am also reminded every day when I walk down Terminal Avenue to pick up my parked car after work of just how many homeless people there are in Vancouver, too.  They keep me humble, these homeless people who line up to get a bowl of soup and possibly a warm bed for the night if they are lucky.  Sometimes they wave at me and greet me kindly, and sometimes some are bold enough to even whistle at me as I walk to my parked Volvo, wearing my Spanish high-heels and Raybans.  Strangely enough, in comparison to them I am a millionaire.  I see and realize these things every day, yet why sometimes do I still feel so low?  Why do I sometimes feel like I haven't even a pot to pee in?  Like I have nothing worth talking about in my life?  I wake up many mornings gasping for breath, panicking from bad dreams, and worried about my future.  Awful dreams about my ex sitting across a table at me, mocking me, laughing viciously at me... And I am filled with dread for the day that lays out ahead of me.  It takes a lot to tackle those nasty thoughts and to keep yourself ahead of them.  I am conscious of it every day.

Up here in Cranbrook I am reminded of the simple life, where people greet one another on the street, and where leaving the back door unlocked while we go for a long walk in one of the many parks and trails in and around this little city is not a completely foreign concept.  There is more than enough space in anyone's backyard, and open valleys and mountain trails to explore.  It is a beautiful part of the province of BC and I have been privileged enough to have been raised here.  It is quiet so quiet here that I finally have the time and the ability to write - the words coming to me now so quickly and effortlessly as if to say "Well it's about time you came to see me!"  Just like my mom.  Writing is always there for me, no matter how long I've been away.

The Steeples - Rocky Mountain Trench just outside of Cranbrook

A short day hike up to Eager Point

I think living in Vancouver is probably a very privileged life.  But the costs of living far outweigh one's take-home pay, and so life is very stressful there.  It's hard to remember that we're all so lucky to be alive when we struggle every day to just pay our rent.  Gawd, paying rent is becoming a huge thorn in my side - without the savings for even a downpayment on way over-priced one bedroom condo, I may possibly be paying rent for the rest of my life.  Do I feel good about this?  I sure as hell don't.  And with all the others around me in the corporate world who so obviously make more money than I do, I am reminded of how pathetic I must be.  Well, mustn't I be??

A massive purple cabbage just waiting to be plucked from the garden

But WAIT!  Then I remember that 500 million people, at least, are starving and living in war torn countries.  And I stop complaining right away.

My mom is making red cabbage from her delicious garden to have with our turkey dinner tonight, along with the corn that is still growing, and fresh squash - also from her garden.  We have been eating bright, juicy tomatoes from her green house.  As I sit at their home computer and write this memo, I hear my Iphone chiming in the other room - an incoming text from a friend from somewhere in the world.  There is SO MUCH abundance in this world, and sometimes our heads are so far up our asses (or stuck in another reality) that we can't see what we've got!  My parents are alive and still together... good grief, how much more fortunate can one divorced Vancouver girl be??

The cauliflower is almost as big as the cabbage!

As I think about all this and more this Thanksgiving weekend, I hope that everyone can also find enough time and quiet to take 30 seconds to remember just how good you've got it, too. 

Beets like nobody's business!

My dad wants to go up to the trails around Jim Smith Lake and then later up to Eager Peak to look for Chanterelle mushrooms.  With the fresh air in my lungs and the sun shining brightly on my face, who am I to say no?

Enjoying the sunshine and a Thanksgiving cocktail in the back yard with my folks  :)

Love, Charleen xo

Brunswick Beach

Brunswick Beach is a naturalist's beach just outside of Lions Bay, which is north of Vancouver on the Sea To Sky Highway.  It is a little piece of heaven, a place where us natural sun bathers love to go without having to compromise peace and serenity like we have to if we head to Wreck Beach.  Brunswick is a little gem of a place that my roommate, Dina, introduced me to last summer.  Today I went down by myself and did a bit of writing, listened to trance music, swam in the crystal clear, cool water, and sun bathed my body in 30+ degrees.  It was definitely a full August Summer Day at Brunswick.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWB07nWotXg

After about 3 hours of sweating, swimming, and sunning, I packed up my stuff and drove into Vancouver.  The streets of the city were dead - it was too hot for people to be out and about.  On days like today, most Vancouverites don't know what to do with themselves.  My advice: keep hydrated with lots of water and Vitamin Water, and keep a hat on your head!  Bring sunscreen with you wherever you go!  And just simply enjoy the warmth of the sun on your skin, because god knows there are enough days on this wet coast when we don't see the sunshine!

Happy Summer,
Charleen xo

Trust Summer, Trust Love?

looong, lazy August Long Weekend

August 1. I have decided to take the day to go over to Vancouver Island to visit my "little" brother Brad and wife, Sharon, my nephew Thompson, and my new niece, Shyda Elizabeth, born July 21. I’m really excited to be going to meet her!

It’s the August long weekend here in BC - BC Day. An extra day off to relax, catch up, or do whatever pleases. For me it means that I have some space in my life to write again. I haven’t written in my blog since early July, but a lot has been going on. I’ve been keeping busy with Ultimate games, hiking Grouse Mountain, going to the beach, and working a new temporary contract which has taken me back downtown to the busy centre of Vancouver. The other night I got home and I let myself go to bed at 7:00 p.m., and I didn’t wake up until 6:00 a.m. I needed that. Our constant good weather and sunshine has given me energy, but even that won’t nourish a person when sleep is needed. And I need lots of both sunshine and sleep!

Aside from all of that, two wonderful men have been occupying my time and head space. I am still amazed that I am able to feel anything for anyone, and if I’m even more honest I can say that I am a bit nervous about trusting this thing called "love”. I continue to take things one day at a time. Not yet able to quite commit myself to anything or anyone else, I gauge myself every day in terms of how much of my heart and soul I want to share. Some days I feel open and alive, other days I feel uneasy about myself, life, and the people who are in my life. I don’t know if I can say that there is anyone on this planet that I can truly trust, not even my twin-sister, not even my best friend. I am still very guarded. The healing process is like a death, and it means you have to recreate yourself entirely.  It takes a long time.

As much as having two wonderful guys around in my life tickles me, I can’t bring myself to trust either one of them. So what is this darn thing called “trust”? Whatever it is, it seems to be a running theme for me this past month. Every time I turn around I find myself considering this word. Can anyone ever truly trust someone 100%?  Is it really wise to even try to trust someone 100%? Can you ever put all of yourself into one person, and let your guard down entirely? I used to think you could, but now I’m not so sure. I’m leaning towards “no”.  Still, this past month it's like the Gods and Goddesses have been screaming at me "Time To Get Over This One, Char!!"  In analyzing what it means for me to trust someone, I see that I am growing up too.

I arrive two minutes too late to catch the 9:00 ferry over to Victoria, so I buy my ticket for the 10:00 sailing and hop over to the market place to buy myself a cup of organic coffee and a muffin, something to stop my stomach from growling. As I walk through the terminal and across the parking lot, a familiar blanket starts to fall over me – the feeling that happens to me every time it’s time for me to write. Although that urge to write might have happened several times in the last month, I’ve not been able to give it a second thought. Rush rush rush, cope cope cope, manage manage manage. Learning to be me again is like going back to school full time.  I’m constantly on the lookout for a new lesson. Today as I sit in the market place at the ferry terminal and look out over Tsawassen Bay, I realize that keeping my life really busy has been a blessing. It has not, however, washed away all of my pain and worries. This realization comes to me as soon as I have quieted my mind long enough to channel the words my guides want me to write here. As soon as I have sat still and am away from the unrelenting pace of my life, it all comes flooding back: the memories, the words, the loss, the sadness, and the bitter-sweet realization of my newfound enjoyment of life. My eyes mist up – “Gee, they haven’t done that in weeks”, I think to myself.  Going further into the realization, I also see that being busy has given me at least some stability in my life, and I am in more control of my emotions because of it. I haven’t become insensitive, and in fact I still feel a lot. But the reprieve has given me strength again. I see things more clearly. These days I feel like I’m making decisions based solely on me, not on someone else, not on peer pressure, not on what my ex would have told me to do, not what my family thinks I should be doing, none of it. I have learned to wait until the inspiration is perfect and my guides give me the green light. If I don’t have either of those things I just don’t do it.

Weekdays are hard. Still all too often wondering about my future, I have not yet been able to secure a permanent position that I am really thrilled about. Nothing looks the way I thought it would look, and I am continually challenged to let go of my ideals. The ideals of who I thought I “should” be, what I thought I “should” do. Sometimes I think my life has been about mimicry. I have been a chameleon. You might say that this shape-shifting is a good skill to have – the ability to mold into any space, take on any form.  But as a sensitive person it is inevitable that one picks up on things that aren’t truly herself. I think to myself that this was what my entire marriage was based upon. So how does one stay in a relationship with someone and still be authentically themselves? If “differentiation” is a good thing, why then does it wreak havoc upon people’s relationships? Are we all shape-shifting to make ourselves appealing to someone else? These questions, and being as sensitive as I am, are making it almost impossible to trust new love in my life.  Trust is one lesson that I am currently looking at very seriously right now. And I’ve got a lot of questions about it, you bet I do. If I am to trust someone fully again, I am going to have to truly learn what it means to surrender.

But I am not able to do that. Not yet.

Yesterday Dina, Danielle, Malcolm and I drove out to a quiet bay called Brunswick Beach just past Lions Bay on the Sea-To-Sky Highway. It is a secluded naturalist beach where the water is crystal clear and the beach is calm and quiet. Not wild and zany like Wreck Beach, where you have to try to find a spot that is only half as insane as the rest of the beach! Each of us brought whatever comforts we needed for the day (food, water, beer, body pillow, beach blankets, sunscreen, music) and found a super sweet secluded spot big enough for the four of us. Together we lied nude in the sunshine, fully soaking up the warmth that this West Coast summer has blessed us with. Sitting in the sunshine with three Fire signs is quite the treat for me. As I sat back and listened to them talk, I smiled both inwardly and outwardly. These are the types of healing spirits that I’ve needed in my life.

In many ways I feel like everything I’ve wanted in my life is slowly slipping away. Some days it feels like my vision of living in Spain and speaking the language fluently is going to be impossible. But the truth is that life just looks so much differently than what I thought it would look like, that sometimes it just “seems” like my dreams won’t ever come true. But as long as one holds onto the dream then all is not lost! There is always a chance to have your dream realized. But to let go of your ideals, let go of your ego, let go of the person you thought you were… that’s what makes life feel difficult. It is a real struggle to give up and surrender, and TRUST what life has in store for you. As long as you fight the forces that are working against you, it will seem like there is no hope for anything. I’ve learned over and over again how to go with the flow. If this dream can’t happen right now, then so be it. For me it feels better to simply let a few things go for now while I iron out some of the kinks in the linens. I know that I can only do so much, and the rest is up to God, up to the Universe. I used to think that we could direct our destiny, but these days I am not so sure anymore. More and more I think that our destiny was defined for us the moment we took our first breath in this life. All we have to do is watch it play out like a good movie, and not fight it.

So here it is: my movie. And one day it’ll make a good book.

Finally on board the ferry and riding the waves of the Pacific Ocean as we maneuver through the straight past Gabriola Island. I silently observe how many Spanish speaking tourists there are on board today, and how I still enjoy listening to them speak their language. One family is definitely from Mexico, while two other women speak in an Argentinian accent.  As I sit here channeling words onto the blank screen of my computer, I can hear that the two dark haired gentlemen at the table beside mine are definitely from Spain, the sweet “thh” of their “s” so familiar. How I wish I could go over and strike up a conversation with them! How I wish my ability to speak Spanish wasn’t dwindling every day. Still, I understand exactly what they are saying - I giggle to myself as they speak about their confusion over our culture, and the westcoast scenery they find so foreign as they stare out the ferry windows. I keep my eyes on them and smile knowingly. They notice me watching them and they start to feel uneasy, perhaps even more confused – Canadian women don’t make eye contact with men, do they??  My smile broadens and I keep my eyes firmly planted on them. Passion rises in my heart, and I feel a warm glow in my solar plexus area. I am again reminded how much I love the Spanish culture. Suddenly the sound of the ferry’s horn jolts me from my dreamy state. I forget the two tantalizing Spanish men to my right and turn my gaze back to the ocean, and then to the beautiful trees and rocky cliffs that surround the island. I remind myself of how fortunate I am to be living here on Canada’s west coast, an area which I believe to be some of the most beautiful parts of this huge planet we live on. The vision of the water, so healing and strong, mixed with the green of the trees and mountains, and then contrasted with the blue BC summer skies, are all physically powerful reasons to live here. To remind myself again of how fortunate I am, my mind drifts back to only two days ago when I woke up early to meet one of my best girlfriends, Hileray, for a hike/workout on the BCMC trail at Grouse Mountain.  After a great sweat I drove down back into the city and out to the far edges of UBC to Wreck Beach, where I lied in the sand on a “relatively” chilled out Friday. I even allowed myself to drift down into a sleepy, summer siesta - something which is normally quite hard for me to do at Wreck. That very evening on my way back from the beach, I met Danielle in Chinatown and together we went into Yaletown, into the heart of the city on a Friday night, to have dinner and drinks and people-watch, and feel alive and attractive and a part of the scene. It was a full, wonderful, Vancouver summer day.

Thompson, Shyda, and Auntie Char

I am a lucky woman. I am also starting to realize that I am free as a bird. I know that there will always be something that I will strive for, something that will feel just out of my reach, or something that I have to work a little harder to achieve. There will always be something that frustrates me, no doubt. But this is a part of human nature – the process of evolvement and constant expansion and spiritual growth. I am making my own decisions and moving at my own pace. I come and go as I please. I am fully a single woman who is learning to enjoy, and who is also currently enjoying her new self.

And trust? Well, trust will be forthcoming. When I’ve decided I can trust, I'll let you know.

Charleen xo