Life has an interesting way of teaching me lessons. As I work to right some of my old patterns of behavior and practice wholehearted and positive living, I seem to be tested at every turn. This year started off with great peace and a feeling that the loves of my life are healthy and well. And then things got rough.

We all  have those times where things literally fall apart, right? The dryer stops heating up, the furnace starts making funny noises and stops heating, the mailbox gets run over, and all of that is stressful and costly to fix, and you complain a little but understand that these things happen. And then the really big thing happens. You walk by a wall one night and discover wetness, then mold, and then this happens.

Followed by more discoveries of leakage. And this happens:

And now what once was your sanctuary AND your workspace resembles an abandoned building.

I've learned a couple of valuable lessons in short order. Things can always get worse, nothing lasts forever and ignoring your intuition can be costly. But I have also learned that I am very thankful for heat and a home, and jobs that allow us to make enough money to fix things that break.

As we dig into the source (s) of the water problem, it feels a lot like the digging in process I use to help others (and myself) move forward. We peel back layers of the house to get to the place where we can rebuild from. A place where there is a firm foundation. In the case of our house we need to dig down to where it is dry and solid and strong enough to hold us up. In rebuilding a human it is mining down to the place where we are most pure, honest with ourselves and free of untrue beliefs.  We cannot repair the damage for either in a day, but we can begin one step at time.

For the record, I'm good digging in with humans, the house mess just stresses me out.

I wish for everyone to be solid from the ground up. And I am aware that the process takes time and dedicated effort---yet I am also aware this is a process which does not allow you to cheat the corners or rush the reconstruction. You must begin at the beginning and work from there. One positive step at a time.

Who knew the healing of a structure whether it be a human or home involved the same slow process? To get to the root of the problem we must dig down deep to the foundation, smashing through walls and other barriers, revealing the truth, assessing the damage, then carefully extracting the old and sifting to finding the solid within. The beauty of all the work is in the rebuilding, the opportunity to create what you really wanted all along.

I believe anything strengthened in this way remains solid and steady enough to peacefully ride out any storm that comes next. I know this because if I had not spent the time fixing the structure that is "me", this current situation would have devastated me. Right now I am tired, and a little anxious, but confident that we will come out with a positive solution (and a healthy and clean house).

At times we all struggle, and in that place we are not alone. What we need to remember is that we always have access to peace and love and an inner strength that can fortify us, provided we know how to access it.

I am determined not let this setback shake my foundation. I remain thankful for solid roots, love and an open and trusting heart. I will let love guide me. Let hope lift me. And let faith fuel me.

This quote from Prayers To The Great Creator by Julia Cameron spoke to me this morning:

The Universe Funds Me With Strength

In times of adversity, I remember I am strong enough to meet the challenges of my life. I am equal to every situation, a match for every difficulty. Sourced in the power of the Universe, I allow that power to work through me. I meet calamity with strength, I have stamina. Rather than draw on limited resources, I draw on the infinite power within me that moves through me to accomplish its good. I am fueled by all the love, all the strength there is. Loving strength melts mountains. I am ever partnered and supplied by universal flow. Knowing this, I do not doubt my strength, I am strong and secure.

As I sat home on a March evening in 2013 watching a movie and sorting through paperwork, my best friend from high school’s life was changed forever. Her daughter died in a car crash on a cold Iowa highway. Addie had only recently turned 18. For those short months she had lived as an "adult", her Facebook posts and text messages reflected that life at college in Iowa was going well: she had a new boyfriend, a career direction she was passionate about, and felt a growing sense of independence.

I had known Addie since she was born, and although she lived in another state, we had stayed in fairly close contact. As it sometimes goes with teenagers, there were years we'd talk more than others. Yet when she needed me, I tried to be there for her and she certainly helped me keep tabs on my youngest son. On many occasions she knew more about what was going on with him from several states away, than I did living with him in the same house. And when she came back to town to visit her dad's family, she always made time to visit us.

It has been one year and just over nine months now since Addie passed away. Addie's birthday is January first,  so when the calendar changes to a new year; I am reminded that it begins without her in it. I think of her every day, sometimes more than once a day. I talk to her, too. All the time. She pops into my head when I need strength, patience, advice, confidence, or calm. She’s my go to help… and she always comes through, especially when I need that patience or wisdom to deal with my kids.

This "help" started soon after she died.

I was able to attend Addie’s memorial service at Cornell College soon after the accident and I helped her mom face the impossible task of cleaning out Addie's dorm room. What a strange awkward thing to do. Going through the remnants of someone’s life interrupted – it felt like such an intrusion, and yet it had to be done. Addie's mom, Jan, had flown into Iowa for a day and a half and had this one chance to get Addie's stuff all cleaned out. My heart nearly broke for her. We shared a lot of tears as we pawed through Addie's private things, boxing up what Jan wanted to keep (or what she was too exhausted to go through) and giving the rest to the local Goodwill or the friends who stood awkwardly by.

Jan asked me if I wanted something of Addie's and my first thought was "no", I couldn't take anything. It felt wrong, selfish, maybe even a bit creepy. But as I sorted through things and came across a soft, blue blanket; I reconsidered. I knew if I took her blanket I would think of her when I wrapped it around me, it would keep her memory close. And as I pictured the rest of her belongings being used by strangers (who I knew wouldn't think of her when they wore her shoes or her shirt) I decided maybe I would bring home a few more things. I had no idea then that she would become more a part of my life in death, than she ever had been in life.

That day I also felt compelled to ask for a necklace from Addie's eclectic collection. I let Jan choose which one she thought I should take. I have no doubt it was Addie who guided her to the perfect necklace for me. A simple silver chain with a charm that says “Follow Your Heart.” The words could not have been more perfect for me as only a month earlier I had done exactly that when I quit my “safe” job and left the business world I knew to take a leap of faith and “follow my heart”. I have taken the necklace off maybe twice since that day.

Except for the four or five times it randomly fell off in the weeks after my trip to Iowa.

The first time it happened I was certain the necklace had broken---I was drinking my coffee before school—I was substitute teaching at the time, and it fell off my neck and into my lap. In dismay I picked it up only to see that nothing seemed amiss. My husband confirmed as he put it back around my neck that it had just come undone. It seemed odd but I assumed it hadn’t been latched properly.

Until it happened again another morning. Same place.  Roughly the same time. I paid attention to what I was doing at the moment it happened again, somehow realizing that it was no coincidence. I knew Addie was trying to send me a message. She wanted me to notice something. To stop and pay attention.

Deep inside I questioned whether this was really a message from her, or maybe I was simply wishing for it to be.

But as the days went on and the necklace continued to fall off at strange times (always in places where I wasn't in danger of losing it) it became clear that someone or something was guiding me. I choose to believe it was Addie. I started meeting people who introduced me to new things and new ways of thinking, I reconnected with people I had lost touch with, and I started noticing unusual words that kept popping up in conversation or my news feed. (That is how I became a GROOVE dance facilitator, how I learned about Reiki and energy, and how I came to understand that I was a highly sensitive person.) All life re-directing events for me.

I followed the nudges. I worked to open my mind and heart. This led me to many places I would not have ever gone. I reconnected with my intuition, something I had long ago buried, and it changed my life in big beautiful ways. I started living more in the "now" and in short order the world became a beautiful awe-filled place again. I felt connected to the earth and to the universe. I became the person I had been born to be. And soon, instead of only shedding tears of sadness, I began to shed tears of joy and wonder. I now look at the world through "new" eyes.

I am not the same person I was a year and nine months ago. So much has happened. Growth. Acceptance. Love. Understanding. Joy. Wonder. Faith. So much has changed. For the better.

It is easy to get lost in the sadness of Addie's death, to cling to the bitterness about the senselessness of it all --- but I also see how many lives she has changed, how many horizons she has expanded. That is magic.

Part of me learning to let go of the control I clung to and the worry I lived with for most of my adult life, came from the realization that there was more to life than I had ever acknowledged. I am now able to live with hope and trust, joy and wonder, appreciation and grace instead of negativity and worry about the future. Without question Addie's death has created positive change in my life, and for that I am truly thankful.

I think of Addie at least once a day. I bet I always will. Calling her beautiful face to mind is as easy as breathing to me. Many times throughout a day I find myself holding the charm from her necklace between my fingers.

I wear her shirt to GROOVE in. I wear her Ugg boots around town. I carry her blue purse. She is always around me. She is always in my thoughts. She is forever with me. Thinking of her never fails to remind me to be thankful in that exact moment. For her. For my family. For my friends. For this life. And for the lessons I am lucky enough to be learning.

What matters is the love that is right in front of you. I hope to never take it for granted again. To never stop appreciating it. To never live for some time so far in the future that I miss today.

Follow your heart. Believe in fairies. Trust in love. Know that magic exists. Make your dreams come true while you still can. I hear you Addie, I'm trying.

RIP sweet girl -- I hope your spirit soars freely and with great abandon in Neverland.

Hello lovely reader:

As another year comes to a close, I find myself reflecting on the twists and turns my life has taken in the past year. As a girl who once attempted to plan out her life, it is almost laughable that a lot of what happened is nothing I would have ever planned. Some of it is nothing I ever imagined I'd even experience and yet it has to be one of the best years ever. Maybe not in the way most people would measure a successful year --- like by how much money I made, or how much I grew my new business, or what new stuff I was able to acquire. Instead I am measuring it by how much happiness was in it, how much love I felt and how easy it was to be fully me.

In 2014 I practiced being present to all the little things that mattered (and even to the ones that didn't seem to matter). I just wanted to make sure I didn't miss a thing. I rejoiced in both sunny and cloudy days, in planned fun and in unexpected detours, and I was able to find the sunny side of nearly every situation. As a result, I felt calm, peaceful and happy nearly all the time. Where I once would have let the unexpected get me down and stress me out, I went with the flow, stayed peaceful within, and paid attention to the greater meanings. And there were plenty of life lessons.

Even when it wasn't all rosy I looked forward to each day and the new possibilities. I watched for signs and remained open to opportunities. The times I was able to spend with my love, my family, my trees, my magic friends, my students and with my words were among the best moments of my life.

I have also experienced great kindness this year. Compliments I never saw coming (which to me are delightful affirmations that I am on the right track), and connections that rekindled or were made for the first time which turned out to be exactly what I needed next. I have been blessed to learn so many new and exciting things, and to put into practice what I have learned to empower others. Not only have I been able to guide them to personal wellness, I get paid to help them feel better in their own bodies. How lucky I am to have arrived in this beautiful place!

I made a lot of time for me in 2014. And as a result I feel like I can breathe again. My three words to live by were Clarify, Cultivate and Savor and in looking back, I believe I really did infuse them into my year.

Clarify: I let some things go this year along with the worry and fear and control I once clung to, and they were really important things: friendships, opportunities, job offers,  responsibilities. Clarifying and letting them go left me feeling lighter and freer.

Cultivate: I have learned some important life lessons in 2014 with the help of some incredibly talented friends and students. Their honesty and willingness to allow me to grow with them has lit my path ahead. One really big lesson that took me many tries to learn was saying "no" to furthering other people's dreams, and fully saying "yes" to furthering mine. I learned to believe in myself again and that is huge.

Savor: Part of appreciating what is right in front of you is being present to the beauty of everything.  For me that requires downtime to rejuvenate.  I made time to "turtle in" this past year and that allowed me to be the best version of myself. The people in my life deserve the best I have to offer and in order to give it to them, I require a lot of unplanned creative "me" time. I have learned that me being overwhelmed is awful for everyone around me. Keeping myself clear and bright allowed me to shine my best light ever in 2014. I think maybe I accomplished something I have always attempted --- to lead by example.

I wanted to reach out via this post and wish you a wonderful new year filled with love + light and to encourage you to make the changes necessary to bring forth the best YOU! Thank you also for reading my blog. Although I write for me (because that is how I process, grow and learn) I am grateful for every person who comments on the blog (or in person) to say that my words resonate. I am a word girl, and I understand that coming upon the right words at just the right time can be life changing. It is an honor to hear that a few of my posts have found their way to the right people at the right time this past year.

Namaste: the Spirit in me sees, honors and appreciates the spirit in you. Have a happy and blessed new year. My words for 2015 are Freedom, Growth & Joy in case you didn't notice. Have you chosen yours yet? I would love for my readers to hear what direction your life will be taking this next year.

--Terri Spaulding

P.S. Just in case you were looking for inspiration and/or ideas on how to make 2015 a year of forward motion, here is my latest newsletter with upcoming opportunities to come grow with me. Feel free to share this link http://eepurl.com/baiT41with anyone who might interested. Word of mouth, personal recommendations, and shares are the way I find my proper audience. Many, many thanks in advance.

I have tears of happiness in my eyes today.

I was granted one of my greatest wishes this weekend.

I was able to babysit my sweet grandbaby two evenings in a row. I got to feed him dinner, change his diaper, play balls and cars with him, give him a bath, read him a story, cuddle him and tell him how much I love him. I got to watch his little face express determination, curiosity, silliness, happiness, frustration and deep intelligence. I saw him walk, not crawl across the room for the first time and I was reminded of how busy a little boy can be.

I do not take those things for granted.

If you are reading a post of mine for the first time you may not know that my son gave his son up for adoption. And by the grace of God it is an open adoption and I am able to know my grandson; a gift so incredible it never fails to move me. Or to start the gratitude to his adoptive parents flowing.

This weekend I was able to watch my husband, the love of my life, be a real grandpa--- to make his grand baby laugh, teach him how to bounce a big ball, bathe him and rock his soft little body to sleep. I was able to see three generations of boy put together a racetrack.

I was also gifted the special moment of experiencing my baby reading a bedtime story to his baby and of seeing the sweet look of love on his face as he rocked him to sleep, their two hearts beating as one for a moment in time. I will lock that moment in my heart forever.

What a gift.

What a joy.

What a blessing.

I will treasure the wonderment of having Ford reach his hand back for mine as I stood by his crib, as if to make sure I was still there.

It made me see that love is all that matters.

It made me wish for him to know that anytime he reaches for it, my hand will be there for the taking. And as he tucked it in close to his chest I felt my heart melt with a rush of unconditional love so big it overwhelms me even now.

It inspired this Christmas Wish:

Ford-- I hope you know that I will always be there to take your hand when needed. I will love you from afar and take every chance I can to be present in your life so that you always know how special, wanted and loved you are. Ashley and Travis, I wish you to know how much I appreciate your grace and trust, and to explain that no matter how hard I try I will never be able to fully express the depth of my gratitude to you for allowing us to know your son.What may seem weird to others is nothing short of a miracle to me. You have inspired me to share grace in any way I can throughout all situations in my life. Your kindness brings me to my knees. When others doubt or question your choices in regards to allowing my little family to know Ford, please remind them that adoption goes both ways with healing. As much as you needed Ford, we needed you to provide for him what we could not. And letting go was the greatest way we knew how to show grace. Allowing us to be a small part of Ford’s life has not only been healing; it has been life changing. I wish for them to see us as additional support, and not as a threat. We never wish to compete with or intrude on the wonderful life you all have made for Ford. We only wish to let him and you know that he is surrounded by loved on all sides.

This Christmas miracle has inspired me from this moment on to take every opportunity I am offered to show LOVE, share LOVE, spread LOVE, and receive LOVE.

Because love is all that matters.

And I will keep the sweet scent of my grand baby’s freshly washed hair in my nostrils, the feel of his little hand in mine, and the joyful sound of his happy giggle in my heart as I head intochallenging times.  When I feel lost or scared I will remember the sweetness of his heart beating next to mine as I rocked him to sleep, and I will know that everything will be okay.

Related blogposts:

The View From Here

My Glass is Truly Half Full

The Here and Now

All of my life I have been very quiet about my spiritual beliefs. I think I learned from a young age that living in West Michigan without a deep connection to a specific religion or church was somehow a cause for shame. Maybe it came from so many years of people wanting to change me/fix me/save me by converting me over to their beliefs when they found I didn't have a powerful church connection of my own. Not one to blindly follow anything, I actually tried many different churches searching for one I felt at home in, but I always found "rules" and reasons that I could not wholeheartedly follow. Eventually I just stopped trying, yet continued to believe in God in my own way. 

Recently I have been more verbal about my spirituality and a friend, who also grew up in GR, sent me something they had written years ago explaining their answer to the age old question of: Are you religious? Imagine my surprise by how beautifully this described my feelings on the subject as well. Although my friend's story is not exactly mine, it is mine in so many ways.

My friend has graciously allowed me to share this with you in hopes it may help others let go of  long-held beliefs that what they believe is somehow not good enough. There is great power in knowing you are not alone. Thank you friend --you rock!

Am I Religious?

It depends. Religion, in my view, is a ritualistic means to a spiritual end and church is simply organized religion. Spirituality, on the other hand, is a quest for enlightenment, the search for truth. It is a personal and purposeful journey, one unencumbered by ritual. Although I’m not religious in the traditional sense, spirituality influences everything I do. It is the foundation of my character and it defines who I am.

I attended church as a child and at various times as an adult but my spiritual journey accelerated after an epiphany I experienced while traveling between C and D concourses at O'Hare airport in 1995.  Most of the people between the concourses were on the moving sidewalk. I was not. Everyone, including me, was putting one foot in front of the other. Yet those on the moving sidewalk were getting farther, faster than I was.  For some inexplicable reason I thought that spirituality (religion to some) was like that. Once you make a conscious choice to get on board, to accept that there are forces in the universe that defy explanation, you will be thrust forward. At that very moment, I simply surrendered a portion of myself and the result has been a clarity that wasn't there before. More order, less confusion. More peace, less angst.  I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't actually experienced it myself. In fact I waited many years before I even shared it with anyone because I didn't completely trust it. I do now.

Here is what I believe.

          I believe there is a spiritual impulse in everyone. A desire to comprehend the order of the universe and the kinship of mankind. All religions attempt to bring understanding to these complex issues. None have done it adequately for me. As a result, I don't belong to a church or denomination though much of what I believe is rooted in Christian principles, absent the dogma and perhaps with a pinch of the metaphysical. Although I believe in an omnipresent force, I don't believe that God (however defined) guides our daily lives and helps us choose between Corn Flakes and Rice Krispies in the morning. However, I do believe there is a natural order to the universe and the culmination of your life's experiences determines your place in that order. Like a profession of faith in the traditional sense, you cannot fully appreciate the order of things until you accept that you are not self-derived, self-sufficient, or self-sustaining.

Spirituality is a process that requires both contemplative persistence and intellectual surrender. Little effort is needed to believe that life is mostly random happenstance. Tremendous effort is needed to comprehend what cannot be logically explained. Neither effort has any meaningful return unlike the surrender I described above, which pays immediate dividends if it is sincere, passionate and unconditional. When you accept that forces exist in ways that defy explanation, you are no longer burdened by the need for empirical evidence that all life is connected and all lives are purposeful. You simply accept it because in your heart you know it to be true. You embrace it and it embraces you. Some call it faith and others call it fate. It's all the same to me and it doesn't matter how you get there. I respect anyone who commits themselves to spiritual endeavors as long as it goes beyond blindly accepting whatever they are told. Commitment to a ritual without conviction of the heart nets you nothing. To simply go through the motions of religious practice without the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment is both pointless and ultimately unrewarding. I don't believe you can ever experience heaven, or nirvana, or self-actualization, or whatever you seek without an honest, cognitive exploration of your individual spirituality. Although my definitions might differ from others, I can say without hesitation that I believe in God, I believe in prayer, I believe in faith and fate, and I believe we are all connected by a force that must be engaged but can never be fully understood.

So whenever I’m asked if I’m religious, my answer usually goes something like this……

• I believe you are religious not by proclaiming it, but by living it. That your actions and the thoughts that occupy your mind, day in and day out, on this earth, in this time, are more important than any profession of faith.
• I believe you are religious when you stop deluding yourself that you are self-derived, self-sufficient, or self-sustaining, whether you believe in creation or evolution, or neither, or both.
• I believe you are religious when you hold some hope beyond the present, some self-respect beyond your failures whether you believe in an after-life or not.
• I believe you are religious when your heart is capable of boundless joy because you are driven by the notion that life is a gift and should be treated as such. 
• I believe you are religious when it is your impulse to seek out the good in all things because you passionately believe it exists in all things.
• I believe you are religious when you have an abiding gratitude for all you have received regardless of your circumstances or the circumstances of others.
• I believe you are religious when you can look beyond the whole of mankind and see the splendor of the universe and a purpose in your own heart.
• I believe you are religious when you have done all that you can to know your own heart and then, in confidence, entrust yourself to a force that is much larger than yourself.

I’ve been thinking for a while about what I wanted to say in this post. And not just because it is Thanksgiving. What I have to say applies to the other 364 days of the year as well.

Dear amazingly talented beautiful-hearted women in my life:

I hesitate to tell you exactly how much you have shaped me the past couple of years because I am afraid that you will think I brought nothing to the table of our friendship.

Yet if I just say thank you, how can you even begin to know how deep my gratitude goes?

The thank you I am talking about is a thank you from the bottom of my heart (and soul). Because in many ways, you saved me.

You played a huge part in helping me find myself again. In so many little every day ways you showed me by your example how I could feel better in my body, be happier, and live freer. Your unique stories have opened my heart and inspired me to take risks that I might not have dared to before. You have helped me understand that I am not the island I once felt I was.

I am part of a tribe of strong, talented, uniquely inspiring women.

We are different; but we are so much the same.

From that common ground I not only have become wiser about understanding you, but also wiser about understanding myself.

I realize that your fears are also my fears.

Of not being enough. Of not being good enough. Of not being worthy.

I recognize that your sincere wishes are also my sincere wishes. To be appreciated for our talents, and not defined by our weaknesses. To feel our contributions have meaning and that our efforts at making the world a better place are both noticed and appreciated.

We wish to be free of the junk that weighs us down.

We desire to be loved and cherished for exactly who we are, even as we morph and grow.

We aspire to be the person we were always meant to be.

We need to believe that we are worthy of living the life of our dreams.

We deserve to be cherished, respected and loved by those that matter most.

Thank you women in my life for also standing up to show me the error of my ways.

For being my mirror. For reflecting back to me all those parts of me I was scared to see.  And shining a light on all your unique qualities that I hope to someday call mine.

For helping me see I was more than I thought I was. And more than I thought I ever could be.

Thank you for using your light to shine a path for me.

For patiently believing in me, even when I did not believe in myself.

For gently redirecting me when I veered off course.

For supporting all my crazy ideas.

And for doing everything you could to encourage me to continue to find my path and follow my heart.

Thank you for taking the lead when I had lost my way and for graciously letting me lead when I needed to believe I could.

For not judging me when I may have jumped to judge others.

For loving me when I didn’t love myself.

For showing me that bending does not mean breaking.

And for explaining that asking for help is a gift to those who love you most.

Thank you for your grace in making me feel that my talent is no less valuable than yours.  And for your empathy, compassion & understanding.

And most especially for calling me bad ass when I felt shaky about my own power.

Women in my life you are all glorious beacons of light and hope, not only for me, but for generations of women to come.

I admire your courage, I honor your truth. And I will never take you for granted. I am not only thankful for you, I LOVE you.

From the bottom of my heart I wish you all a Peace + Gratitude filled Thanksgiving.

--Namaste

And when she was told it was time...

she grew up.

And she forgot who she was deep down inside. It didn't happen slowly, that would be too painful, she just packed up all the little things that made her whole and happy, and uniquely her, and stuck them in the attic.

For someday when...

she could breathe again. Or when her grandchildren would go through the boxes containing the pieces and parts of the real her she'd saved for later, and set her spirit free.

She stopped believing in magic.

Because magic wasn't in the rulebook for becoming a grown up she was reminded many times. Good girls are responsible, safe, determined, and productive. There was no longer time for collecting rocks or watching butterflies, there were more important things to be done.

She stopped saying what she meant.

For a long while she remained quiet. There were so many unwritten rules that didn't make sense to her. Rules about what, when and how to say things so as not to stand out in all the wrong ways. Rules about pretending not to notice certain things and having to  acknowledge things that really didn't matter. Rules about impressing people with questionable intentions and being nice to people who were mean spirited on the inside. The worst was pretending not to know when people said one thing and thought another.

She got confused.

She was almost afraid to participate in her own life, in case she did it wrong. So she watched and waited for the time to be right to speak her mind again. Only years went by and her natural talents faded. Her dreams disappeared. And her light dimmed.

She gave up.

There was so much to worry about trying to do right that she became scared to say anything important at all, in case she might be wrong. Or ridiculed. Or deemed unworthy. But that felt wrong, too. Because deep inside remained a small burning need to understand everything, to be wildly curious, to right wrongs, to speak up, to make a difference. To stand out in all the right ways.

Years went by and she completely lost her way.

She had stopped writing, reading or even creating. She gave up the thought of ever losing herself in the magic of life again. There was no spontaneity to her movements, and little  joy. She never allowed herself the luxury of just being. She heard constant noise. And she listened only to the mean voice within. In an attempt to outrun it, she stayed in constant motion. Others saw her as tightly wound. Ridiculously planned. Inflexibly judgmental. She became exactly the kind of person she never wanted to be.

And one day she woke up a hot mess on her basement floor and realized she had hit rock bottom. She had become a grown up.

And as a grown up she was slowly doing to her children what had once been done to her. She was sucking the magic out of them. Her body and soul suddenly felt the effects of years spent attempting to be perfect, the times she tried to please, and the utter devastation of realizing even if she got there, it would never be enough. Especially for herself.

So she stopped.

Nearly cold turkey. She stopped doing all the things that had once been done to her. She stopped correcting. She stopped protecting. She stopped smoothing the road ahead for them. She stopped pushing. She stopped comparing. She just stopped. And she began the hardest thing she's ever done.

She let go.

Of everything. The rules. The disappointment. The worry. Her mean voice. The constant swimming upstream. All of it. Piece by piece. And a funny thing happened. She started healing. She began to believe in herself again.

She started believing that she could change the world, just by being herself.

She stopped trying to prove, strive, achieve and she started to become something better. She not only remembered the magic within, she began to rely on it. And she showed the world that it is never too late.

The magic is forever within.

It lived in her and it lives within you.

There is no time like right now to Believe in the power of you.

It is never too late.

I never knew how much extra weight I carried, until I let it go.

Do you know that forever---or at least ever since I can remember anyway, I have been unable to float? It made swimming hard because how can you do that if you consistently sink? I gave up on swimming in proper form years ago and created a kind of doggie-paddle-kick to make my way across the water. Honestly it didn't seem that unusual to me as my mom has always complained of the same inability to float.

This past summer on a still and sunny morning, something miraculous happened. I learned to float again.

My explanation for the sink effect is that I allowed life to weigh me down. I'm guessing most of it came from the mean voice in my head, the one who heard every criticism from the outside world (ever inferred or received by direct comment), and the one who glossed over every compliment I ever received.

In my study of personal energy through reiki, reading and meditation, I now understand that emotions, old emotions especially, can be stored in our physical bodies. Forever, if we let them reside there. They create roadblocks to our free flowing energy, which can eventually lead to physical ailments, and/or they can make us heavy and weigh us down. Everyone carries some of this extra emotional weight, oftentimes without even knowing it. Apparently I carried a lot of it.

I let go of most of it this past year. Some of it in big emotional chunks --just ask my boys--they learned to stop asking what was wrong and just give me an awkward pat or a hug if there were signs of a recent crying jag. And there were small releases in the form of sighs, deep breaths, or an intention to cut ties to someone or something ---that led to soft, slow tears or moist eyes. Some of the tears I shed were happy ones resulting from the letting go.  And some came from dealing with the big chunks of sadness, regret and shame that moved on out. Those were the heavy tears.

No matter what kind of a release they were, the act of letting go felt better in my body. Both physically and mentally.

I felt lighter, freer and afterwards, thought maybe I could actually breathe a bit more fully.

Learning to float again was a benefit to the letting go. The day this summer when I realized I could finally float on top of the lake again; I didn't want to stop. If not for my friend Sue Ann being with me, I might have stayed in there all day experimenting with the feeling of sinking slowly as the air left my lungs and feeling myself slowly rise to the surface when I breathed in fully again.

It was lovely. It was empowering. I felt very much like a kid again.

For years I unconsciously sabotaged my own ability to float. When I'd feel myself start to drift downward, instead of trusting in the process and breathing slowly and deeply to refill my lungs with air, I'd flail about in panic and I'd sink. Somewhere along the way I stopped trusting my own ability to rise back up.

Fear held me down. Faith now helps me float.

If I can do it, so can you.

Let it go. Let go of all the things that hold you back. Like dead limbs; drop them. Think of it as clearing the clutter from the 'inside' of you.

Since relearning to float, spontaneity shows her face more often in my life. She's become a regular visitor -- reminding me to stop what I am doing and go for a walk with the trees or to step away from the computer and appreciate some of the natural beauty outside my window. She's less serious, and she's way more forgiving than Control, who used to rule my world. 

Is it time to let go of that which holds you down?

You know how thinking back over time you can recognize life changing moments, doors that you went through that changed your life forever?

I had one today.

Someone I love (but haven't seen for a while) asked me how I was doing via a short text conversation.

And I immediately answered back: I'm the best I have ever been.

And damn if I didn't mean it. Wholeheartedly. Honestly. Joyfully.

I am doing great. I feel good. NO, I feel great. I feel at peace. I feel purposeful. I feel loved. I feel happy. I feel at ease with me.

It is the best feeling in the world. It is like I got new glasses with a stronger prescription and I can finally see the leaves on the trees again.

Everything is beautiful. Everything makes sense. Everything is going to be okay.

Just needed to share this so I never forget. And so you'd know there is always hope that you can make changes for the better, too.

I took a Zentangle class this past Monday with Nancy VanRooy through GR Parks and Recreation and when I pulled out my Zentangles again this morning, I felt like an artist.

That is a powerful feeling for a non-artist like me.

What I love most about taking a new class like this ---is the feeling of being successful. Not successful in the way of judging how my final creation looked compared to everyone else's, or in garnering accolades like "Ooh your Zentangle is fantastic, what a great job you did, you are a talented artist", but in how I felt while doing it.

This class made me feel creative, talented, and empowered. And days later I am still feeling like an artist.

'You can't do it wrong' are magic words for a recovering control freak with a perfectionistic streak.

They spell creative freedom to me. Permission to use my imagination. To feel my way through using intuition, not technique and to paint outside the lines if I want to.

And this permission up front to do it my way also completely silences my inner mean voice. There is no judgment, no comparison, no feeling that I stand out in all the wrong ways. Just quiet, happy acceptance at my efforts and pride in my work.

It is the difference between inner stress and inner peace in my body.

I have never been good at following complicated step by step processes. 'How to' books that show a detailed one stroke at a time procedure have never worked for me. (Maybe that is why I also dislike math so much). And why I never willingly volunteer to assemble or build anything or to keep detailed records, and maybe it even explains why I break so many things. My family likes to make fun of the way I open (destroy) boxes of cereal -- or bags of chips. Do those 'tear here' or 'open on the dotted lines' instructions ever really work for anyone?

What I love about Yoga, Zentangle & GROOVE -- is that you do it your way. With 100% permission to be unique. You are told to listen to your body and do what feels right, to morph your oopsies into something beautiful as there are no mistakes in Zentangle, or to uniquely express with your body what you hear in the music.

Each one of those phrases allows a sense of freedom and joy to bloom within me.

And my spirit has needed to feel this way for a very long time. As a highly sensitive person I dislike being compared, watched, graded, or judged more than you can imagine, especially when I do it to myself.

One of my favorite parts of the Zentangle class was seeing the uniqueness of everyone's tiles afterwards; not to "compare" mine to theirs, but to see how each woman there listened to the same instructions and yet created something different. No two tiles looked even close to the same.

And therein lies the beauty of creative freedom, and the power of permission in allowing someone to do it 'their way'.

As a yoga instructor it is my hope that no student ever thinks they have to look like the person on the mat next to them in a specific pose. Your pose should be as as unique to you as your DNA. It is not about how it looks on the outside, it is about how it feels on the inside.

Every time I step onto my mat to lead a yoga class, or take the floor to begin a GROOVE class, I hope I empower each student to do it 'their way' like Nancy did in our Zentangle class. What more does a person really need to flourish than permission to be uniquely themselves?

Start saying YES to whatever allows you to be more of your unique and beautiful self, and say NO to anything that dims your light. This small thing has immense life changing power. This I know.

If I told you that you were going to die tomorrow, would it change the way you live today?

It should.

This question may seem irrelevant because you are probably not going to die tomorrow and no one could predict it anyway. But I believe the question should make you do more than think.

It should be a catalyst to bring on changes. Changes that move you into the present moment and out of the future or the past.

If you, like me, have spent way too much of your precious life here on earth doing things that didn't really matter, you might feel a pang of remorse when you ponder the question.

A twinge of regret for the moments lost, adventures rejected, and connections missed while you went about accomplishing all your ridiculous goals. Or a pang of sadness for all the frustrating attempts to prove yourself worthy that ultimately resulted in added  disappointment. You might even experience some reservation at the out of character actions you took trying to be accepted, included and appreciated.

And nothing grabs at a girl's heart more than realizing how silly it was to try to control the future by planning the life out of everyone and everything around her, even if it all started with good intentions.

For highly sensitive people like me, fitting into a world where you feel you stand out (for all the wrong reasons) is sometimes a major objective, a vision clouding objective. We get caught up in the doing, and we forget about the being. What we don't realize is that when we try so hard to 'fit in', those little compromises we make occur at the expense of our souls and eventually mess with our self-worth.

When we don't live in the present, we put off things that matter thinking we will have time to do it later. Until later comes and we comprehend all the missed opportunities.

I'm sure you've heard the saying many times 'live each moment like it is your last'  and maybe you, like me, would pause and reflect for a moment on where you were spending your time and attention, and then go right back to doing things the way you have always done.

When I finally recognized my life was not heading in the right direction, I changed it.

And in doing so not only changed my life, but the lives of those I love. What greater inspiration is there than leading by example?

So many good changes have come from being more aware, from living in the moment right in front of me. For a long, long while I forgot how to appreciate. I was so caught up in planning it all out, in accomplishing things, in making sure that I was responsible and productive, that I lost "me" and life delivered me to my lowest moment. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from all that striving. And I realized I was missing the joyous parts of life.

If you knew that today was your last day--how many people would you want to see, talk to, hug, write a letter to, or tell how much they have meant to you? If you knew you were going to die tomorrow wouldn't you want to spend the minutes of your last day doing things that matter.

I would.

A while back I started to get the sense that my time was limited. Not in an I-am-going-to-die-tomorrow way, but like a wake up call to pay attention to all the little moments I was missing. Stopping to smell the roses was not in my original plan. It is the only plan now.

One moment at a time. One person at a time. One honest declaration of love, one heartfelt I'm sorry, one please forgive me, one hug filled with positive energy, one thank you so much, one I am listening, I see you, I hear you, one you can do it! Those are the moments that matter.

What would you do differently if this were your last day?

There is time to make a change. Follow your heart. Go on an adventure. Do absolutely nothing. Believe in yourself. Whatever it is that is different than what you usually do; do it. And do it with all the focus you can muster, as if it were the last time.

“If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”

— Dr. Wayne Dyer

I was asked to lend my "voice" to help someone in need today.

Someone who is too young to protect herself. The systems created to protect children in need, are currently failing her. The petition that needs signatures is to Gov. Rick Snyder asking him to take another look at this case and to stop allowing the people in charge to send this child back into the hands of her mother, her abuser. It will also aid those who love her in spreading the word to a larger audience, to garner signatures of support, so the courts will do the right thing and allow her father to take care of her.

My first reaction when I got the request was 'but that is not what my blog is about'.  But that was only a knee jerk reaction-- and one I immediately reconsidered.

Truth is what my blog is all about. It might not always be about what people want to hear, but it may be exactly what needs to be said.

So here goes:

Ellie, my nieces new daughter by blended family, is in need of help via your signature to support a petition to have her case examined more closely. This beautiful little girl is being abused and no matter how hard her father (and others) fight for the right thing to be done, it seems she is sent back into the hands of the one who allows the abuse to continue. Her mother.

You may not know the story. I may not even know the full story. But what I do know is this. Ellie deserves to be protected, to find her safe haven, her home and to be cared for by those who love and respect (and want) her.

I know little about abuse from my personal experience.  I was raised by supportive, protective, loving parents, who only wanted the best for me. But I do know what it is like to see a child and or children who are not so lucky. My family opened our home to a couple children who needed their own version of a safe haven a few years back. That small gesture has made the biggest impact on so many lives. Mine included. In that case, we did the right thing no matter how hard it was at times-- and the ripples of good from that continue to surround me.

I've seen all kinds of moms in my life. Some who are great mothers with great intentions, some who are mothers with good intentions who make mistakes,  and some who are just plain awful.

I know from experience that you don't have to be a biological mother to love a child as your own. To feel for them the same as you feel for your biological ones. Love is love. Doing the right thing is always the best way to go.

Here is the link to Ellie's petition, it was written by Ellie's grandmother, my sister-in-law. If you feel called to sign your name in support of a small child in need of a voice, please do. And if you feel called to share it, well we would really appreciate the support. We need 150 more signatures before Wednesday. Before time runs out and the courts send Ellie back to her abusive mother.

Spreading Love and Sharing Truth. It just has to be the right way to go.

Thank you for any support you are able to give.

---Terri

I've been avoiding writing lately. I still think in words but they seem to be stuck just under the surface, not quite ready to spill out.

And yet I am still being creative, just not with my words. I am appreciating the magnificence of fall through the lens of my camera, maybe in a bigger way than I ever have before. It is as if I cannot stop the flow of gratitude for the beauty in front of me. Every day. Even when the sky is gray.

Although I have always deemed myself a "summer girl", fall seems to bring out the awe and wonder in me.

As the trees stand in their full glory, their grand finale before they are stripped bare for the long cold winter, I see their pride. Their strength. Their unique beauty. I begin to understand the many life lessons that trees have to share with us.

The ones about standing strong against the elements and about finding your steady inner center while still being able to remain flexible. The lessons about being able to provide shelter for those less strong, to hold space for them while they rest & lean against you, and not allow them to knock you over. The importance of finding power and passion in your own uniqueness, and being okay with the scars that make you interesting and different. And the confidence it takes to be stripped of all your outward beauty and still stand proud in the naked truth of who you are.

It takes my breath away the many things the trees teach me.

While my words may escape me at this time of year, the beauty of the world around me does not. I thought I would share a few pictures of the way I see the world.Through my lens. In hopes you will soon begin to see it differently, too.

It bothers me every time I realize how many years I let pass by without really being present.

I used to live each day focused on how much I needed to accomplish and how many items I crossed off my to do list. That is how I measured my worth. It meant that I was always looking ahead -- and missing all the little moments of my life.

Recently I was asked to give a piece of advice to a soon-to-be new mom (who reminds me a lot of the overachiever I used to be) and the first thing I wanted to tell her was to enjoy every. single. moment. with her child, her husband & her family. I wished in words to impress upon her how important it is to stop planning each moment of her life and just live it.

I once so needed that advice.

But I wonder if  I would have listened if someone had tried to slow me down. Probably not. I think it was a lesson that I needed to learn. The hard way.

Looking back on my mothering years I see that the moments I tried to make matter --didn't. Not at all. My attempts at special moments simply flowed into the rest of the moments of their lives and were quickly forgotten (or remembered in all the wrong ways.)

The moments my kids remember are the unplanned, seemingly insignificant moments, some of them I'd just as soon wish they'd forget. Not my best moments. Not at all. Not the scrapbook memories I was shooting for, the "perfect" mother, "perfect" family moments.

They remember the actual unplanned off-my-script moments.

Like the time when I was sharing a story about a school field trip we had recently taken while attempting to say the word "sugarbush" with a mouthful of salad. I ended up spitting ranch dressing all down the front of my green fleece. Recently, within the span of a week or two,  both of my boys independently recounted that story to a friend. This happened years ago.

They recall the time I once let fly a huge swear word while driving the am school carpool after a chunk of metal flew off the car in front of us on the highway and I ran it over it. They still laugh and reminisce about the inappropriateness of the word I shouted.

Those are not really the moments I would hope they'd remember. 

Things like the tradition of cutting down our yearly Christmas tree, or our week of family vacation at the lake, or how clean our house was, the uniqueness of the homemade Christmas cards we did every year, or the countless other things I attempted to do to leave lasting memories just don't matter to them.

What they remember is being in the real moments of life. The moments that brought a laugh or a cry, a scream or a smile ---good and sometimes not-so-good, unplanned and inappropriate....but memorable. The little moments that make up a life.

I'm so ready to smell the roses. Every. Single. Minute. And to teach others the importance of doing so.

Yesterday I went for a walk to clear my head; even though it was one of those days where rain (hard rain) was imminent. I started off without my camera and am so glad I changed my mind.

Water droplets on fallen leaves has to be the coolest thing I have been obsessed with photographing in a long time.

When I look through the lens of my camera I am completely lost in the moment. In the simple beauty that is right in front of me. It is beyond fantastic to be able to finally truly see the beauty in all the simple moments.

Are you still missing what is right in front of you?

What is the acceptable title for the journey I am on? A title that won't have fervent members of the religious community throwing up protection by declaring that they are Christians...as if that is reason to back away from me.

I consider my transformation from stressed out, overachieving control freak, to peace-filled yoga instructor as one of personal growth, and have referred to it often as a dedicated effort to uncover the best possible version of me.

But someone just acknowledged my transition as a spiritual quest.

And yes, I do believe that fits.

I have spent too many years feeling as though I lacked an acceptable faith.

While I have never lacked a belief in God, or a relationship with Him, I struggled with thinking that because I never found an organized religion who's rules worked for me, my way was not "good enough".

I think I have gone over that mountain now-- I accept that what I believe is okay. Better than okay; it is perfect for me. Especially now that I feel good about it (and myself) from the inside.

I fully acknowledge that I am a student of spirit, and do not have all the answers, in fact I am on a quest for understanding....by definition a quest, is a search or pursuit made to find or obtain something. And as I grow in spirit and strength, I still feel the need as I have since I can remember -- to watch what I say, to choose my language carefully so that others do not judge me. I know I am not the only one.

Lately I have found more and more like-minded souls who share in the belief that we are all on our own journey and we must embrace what works for us, or we won't grow. Yet I wonder when I will have the courage to fully let go of what others think of me and my beliefs, and let my light shine bright.  To be able to finally stand tall in the face of judgment from those who consider my "woo woo" beliefs too different from their long held beliefs to be comfortable with me.

My whole life of growing up in GR has been like that when it comes to organized faith. If it wasn't "their way", it was wrong. I was wrong. Excluded. Not good enough.

I no longer believe that rules get you to God. Faith does. Believing in yourself first and then something greater than you does.

Don't judge; be curious. Don't compare; remain open. That is my plan.

No one has all the answers, and if they think they do, well that is another story entirely.

I'm on a spiritual quest. I am happier than I have ever been. I am more comfortable in my own skin than ever before. And I am confident those who truly love me right now, will love any changes I make in myself along the way.

I haven't written anything about my grand baby in a while.

I don't often even say the words ''I am a grandma" or "I have a grand baby."  So most people I meet never even know. I would like to talk about it more, but I don't feel I have much right. You see, my "baby" created a baby and ultimately gave him up for adoption. It could have been a devastating thing, but by some miracle it was an open adoption, and the adoptive couple is gracious and inclusive and a perfect fit for little Ford. We get to see him. Joy of joys.

I've been keeping our interaction 'close to the vest" as the saying goes, not because I am embarrassed about what happened, or worried what others will think, in fact I am really proud of the decision my son made in doing what was best for his child. I am not sure I would have had the courage to make the same decision myself. I am simply not sharing because it hurts too much. It's an open wound.

I suppose I hide it fairly well, my inner sadness that is, but it doesn't stop it from lingering.

It might always be there. Like a hole in my heart. A wish unfulfilled. A dream that crashed and burned. You know, one of those feelings. I am strong enough not to let it rule me, or hold me back, but it when it surfaces, it is painful. Raw. Open.

It used to be that every time I saw a photo of Ford it made me tear up. It isn't like that anymore. I still feel the tug, but it isn't sadness exactly that immediately rushes to the surface--Ford's happy smile in Facebook pics never fails to fill my heart with love, awe and gratitude. But that tug, the one I experience in the area of my heart when I see his picture in everyday life---feels like a sadness, for at least a minute or two.

Until I bring the focus around to him and his happy family. And remember that this is the way it is supposed to be.  And all is well. This isn't about me. Even though it sometimes feels like it is. It feels like a direct sign that I have been judged and have fallen short, so now I have to suffer this loss of my grandchild. Kind of like a punishment for what I should have done, what I should have known.

I know the "tug" I feel is selfish in nature. Self-critical. A waste of energy. But it doesn't stop it from happening. It is a powerful combo of regret and resolution, and a resignation that I don't get a second chance to do it right with Ford.

Ford will never be fully "mine" in the way I wish he could be. It just wasn't meant to be the way I dreamed it to be. He has a couple of other grandma's who see him regularly, who babysit him often, who get the sleepovers and the vacation time I crave with him.

Parenting is a huge responsibility and I have never been anything but conscientious about any responsibilities that have landed on my plate. Problem is, I got too caught up in doing parenting "right", by the book as I had been shown and taught, and I forgot to make time to  enjoy it.

I forgot to have fun. It should have been fun, darn it. But that is not what I remember... and my kids and husband probably don't remember it that way either.

Oh don't get me wrong, I could have done a worse job. I am not saying I was a complete failure, I did manage to keep everyone safe and clean, accident and germ free (for the most part), but I missed all the little precious moments that I can never get back. The moments of being. Of appreciating. Of enjoying. And somehow I allowed my children to think that they were not good enough, as they were. My focus was always on the future... an if you would have done this, then this...kind of a thing. I was taught that from a young age. It didn't serve me. And it didn't serve my children.

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.  It was so wrong for me to continue that belief. So far from the truth of what is really important.

I have lived 50 years with a mean inner critic. She isn't about to sit back and not take the opportunity to scold me about this. I recognize that I wasn't the best parent I could have been. I know I had the right intentions, but my execution sucked. While I am not one to dwell on would've, could've should'ves---I would take a do over if I could.

Knowing my grand baby is not really mine and that I won't get a second chance to do it right with him, makes me sad. Really sad. Unexplainably devastated. Because I want(ed) another chance to do it right.

I give out a lot of advice these days. To others. And I firmly believe in living your truth. The good parts and the bad. So I get it. I know I have to be okay with acknowledging that I tried my best with my kids. It might not have been good enough, but it was my best. I did it with the right intentions. With love. 

And I have to be okay with knowing I won't have the luxury of fully being Ford's grandma and learning to appreciate his little habits and quirks. I once imagined having lazy days of babysitting where I'd get to be 100% focused on my grandchild, without any distractions and free from the responsibility of doing it right. As a grandparent it wouldn't be all up to me--I could be the kind of person I always wanted to be.  I could Spoil. Meander. Play. Indulge.

But it isn't meant to be. Not yet.

So parents...spoil your kids with your time and love. Love every second of your time with them: the good and the bad. Savor those sleepy weekend mornings, the movie time snuggling (even if it is for the the 50th time), and the slow walks in the woods. The ones where you never actually get anywhere. Let your kids get dirty, play in the rain, and stay up so late they see the moon. Let them wear mismatched shoes out in public and not think it is a reflection on your ability to parent;  let your kids instead be proud they dressed themselves.

Live in the moment. Your example of living in and acknowledging the "now", will be so much more important than keeping your house clean or getting the laundry done.

I see so many young parents doing it right these days and I am so happy for them --and at the same time sad that I wasn't smart enough to have done the same.

Stop trying to follow the advice of your parents and grand parents --chances are when they do become grandparents--they will be attempting to make up for the time they lost, too. Trying to right wrongs they were taught to believe in.

What I would do differently.

Show your kids by example what is really important. Listen to them. Answer them to the best of your ability. Align your words and actions. Spend time --QUALITY time--with them, sharing everything you can. Stop making a plan for everything, instead give yourself time to just enjoy the moment. Even if the moment has you feeling frazzled, tired, frustrated, or exasperated.  Learn to appreciate that you will never have that moment again.

Be present, and also be the best parent you can be in the present moment. Don't save your best self for an opportunity for a do over with your grand baby that may never come.

I understand that my adorable grandson is exactly where he is supposed to be, and with who he is supposed to be with. That makes my heart happy, and now most of the time when I look at a picture of him, it makes me smile with joy that at least he is in my life. No matter if it is different than I once thought. No matter that my do over, my second chance will have to wait.

Related posts: 

http://get-off-go.squarespace.com/blog/my-heart-is-full

http://www.getoffgo.com/blog/the-view-from-here

I love it when people call me fearless.

I also dread it.

Especially when my inner voice screams "not true, you are not fearless, not by a long shot."

I suppose I believe that if  I were truly fearless then I would march off and take action on the things I believed in, and in doing so would make a difference in the world around me. As I write this I am realizing that I have not fully grown past the if, then  futuristic thinking pattern that once ruled me. I thought I had.

To me standing in your personal truth, believing in yourself, and allowing your dreams to grow wings --those actions spell fearless to me. And if that is my gauge, no wonder I fall so far short of believing that I am capable of fearless.

A truly fearless person would go after what they want.

I don't do that well. I still find reasons (or excuses) to procrastinate, to abort, or to divert. I allow myself to get caught up in way too many detours and distractions. Self-sabotage?

I've tried at different times in my life to take action in what seems like the right direction, but I end up letting my inner voice (or someone else' s voiced fears) stop me in my tracks. I've wondered if my heart was not truly into those ideas I left behind, or if I am just scared of committing fully to a path in case it is the "wrong" one. Whatever the reason, I begin things with enthusiasm and passion, and then I stall.

There should be no fear in truth.

Why are so many women of my age afraid to stand fully in our truth?  Is it because we have been taught to worry about what it looks like from the outside, a what-will-the-neighbor's-think mentality we inherited from our mothers and grandmothers? Or is it fear?

We really should be worried more about how it feels on the inside, than what it looks like on the outside---shouldn't we?

Creativity, whether with words, a paintbrush, a camera, a sewing machine, a series of music notes, lies within all of us. And it is nothing short of scary to share outwardly what comes from the deepest parts of our soul. Yet we cannot allow ourselves to stay safe in our skin, never expressing  fully what we feel in our soul, or it will extinguish our light.

The truth, who we really are, is deep within our soul. It is in that creative space where all our  goodness and brokenness awaits the chance to fully express itself. To shine a light outward and make our unique difference.

A truly fearless person would have already written the book I tell people I am writing. They would have let go of the negative thoughts that they aren't really a writer, or they aren't a good enough one anyway. And they would let go of thinking they have nothing unique or original enough to share.

I need to let my light shine. In my own unique words. And I need to do it without expectation and without worrying about the consequences.

I took a step today in the direction of fearless. I signed up to attend the Storyline Writers Conference this fall outside of Chicago. Investing in my dream. Investing in me.

As I continue to evolve and grow into the best me I can be, I thank those who see me as fearless. Your support encourages me to keep going. To keep trying. To believe in myself.

I am pretty sure I see fearless, and she is just around the corner.

I'm not the same person I was. Not at all.

It is funny to see the realization dawn on the faces of those who knew me "when".

Questions of: Who are you? And what did you do with Terri? play across their faces.

The "old me" as I call it, or really the mask I wore to the world showed me as extremely organized. Planned. Productive. Future thinking. Busy. Distracted.

The "real" me is calmer, quieter, less organized and way happier.

But this brings up a question or two. Where did the majority of my old friends go? The ones who counted on me to organize, plan, prepare and hostess events that they enjoyed. They seem to be gone, along with my mask, my organized self and my clean house. Have I neglected them, or am I just no longer what they need?

Forward motion brings changes. And I recognize that this is all okay. Things are happening as they should.

But the new me still needs to be around people. I especially appreciate like minded people, the ones who get me for who I am: a student of spirit, a girl who communicates with trees, who sees colors behind her eyes, who lives to see signs that she is on the right path--even if she can no longer see the path ahead of her as she travels.

I believe in the real me. The new/old me. She is happy, honest, mostly carefree, and totally alive in the beautiful moments of life. I am not always in my head thinking about what might be (well, that still happens occasionally), or looking back at what was. I live more spontaneously and enjoy the moments at hand.

From the light shining off the dew in this morning's grass, to the larvae I saw stuck to my beautiful backyard tree --to the hug I got from my grown up son, still sluggish from sleep, I appreciate every little thing in front of me. I am thankful for every. beautiful. moment.

So many exciting things happening in Sept. including a Meditation Circle where you can sample several types of meditations and share stories of spirit with others afterwards!

Here is the link to the Get Off Go Newsletter which lists all the upcoming workshops for September: http://eepurl.com/1e819

Will I see you at one of them?

---Terri