(re)emerging into the blogosphere

It has been a long while since I last posted. Blogging, which had once been a big part of my life, slowly became less of a priority these last couple years.

Some reasons are obvious: I discovered a new creative endeavour that quickly became an obsession, occupying virtually every minute of my spare time. I began co-habitating with my significant other, and didn’t have the focus I had when it was just me in my own space, doing whatever I wanted, whenever.

Other reasons for the pause were less obvious. Mainly, I felt I was just sharing too much, a theme which had already surfaced in some of my posts. I felt overexposed, somewhat fragmented, and vulnerable…in my perception, open to attack.

Much of what I wrote about in my four years of blogging concerned spiritual matters, and even that was feeling less authentic. I’d consumed so much over the years – spiritual readings and philosophies, self help books, psychics and teachers, personal growth workshops…and something inside me said – enough. This wasn’t a conscious decision. But it was time to unplug.

I wanted this blog to be inspirational, uplifting, and to help people…but that felt forced, these last couple of years.

I’ve long viewed the planet, and the current state of humanity, as undergoing a cleansing and purging period – the unveiling of the shadow, the age of Kali Yuga. And for years, my inner optimist viewed that as positive: humans would eventually wake up, see the light, and usher in a new age.

I no longer experience that certainty, that optimism. Maybe there will be a golden age of humanity, but I’m not as convinced I’ll see it in my lifetime. I am getting glimpses of it, however. (And as I write this, I suppose anything can happen…wildcards, miracles…) How to detach from the ultimate outcome, without becoming passive or apathetic?

For a while I thought about starting a new, anonymous blog, where I could freely write about all the thoughts that plague me, and not worry about oversharing or being perceived as negative. But maybe I will write about those things right here, because I know others are feeling what I do, and there is comfort in that.

Through writing, maybe the positive will be revealed. And really, when it comes to positive/negative…it’s not that simple, is it? There is peace and contentment in accepting all my emotions, without self-judgment or comparing myself to others’ emotional states (which I can never really know). Pretending to be ‘love and light’ when I’m feeling dark and surly only makes me feel worse.

And speaking of judgment, another reason blogging became difficult: the self-imposed perfectionism! I wanted every post to be well-written, perfect grammar, poetic, deep, lots of likes. It took the fun away from it.

Where am I now? I’m still obsessed with making jewelry. But that can be a very solitary activity, and I do want to connect to kindred spirits. In these times it’s so tempting to crawl into my little cocoon and hide out there indefinitely.

I say a big hello to all my blogging friends, and hope and trust you are all well.

italy won’t go away

I was all set to work on my resume tonight.  Last week I found a job posting within a local organization I’ve always admired, and my plan was to devote a good chunk of time to writing a brilliant cover letter that would be sure to land me an interview.

But instead I am blogging.

An innocent lunch with a dear friend has thwarted my well-intentioned plans.

A couple of months ago, I wrote about my little obsession with Italy.  I’d been taking an Italian language class at the time, and dreaming of European travels.  The idea of an overseas adventure felt amazing; a vision I could really make happen.

yup, it's italian day

yup, it’s italian day

But in the weeks following, the enthusiasm slowly dissipated.  I began to question my dream: is it really wise to travel when I don’t have the finances to do so?  Shouldn’t I just try to make things work in my city by finding a more meaningful job and fun things to do?  Am I just looking to escape some inner discomfort and boredom?

And to be honest, the unexpected happened.  I’ve started to see my city with new eyes.  I feel myself appreciating its beauty even more.  I’ve become hopeful and excited about work opportunities and forging new personal and professional connections.

For the first time in a long time, I’ve felt at peace with the idea of maintaining my roots here.  Just this past week, I’ve found a new place to live, something I was stressing about.  All this has left me feeling pretty optimistic.

Europe’s distance, geographically and otherwise, seemed fine with me.

Until I met W. for lunch.

W. informed me that she is travelling to Europe at the end of the summer, around the time I finish up my job.  Not only that, she’s going to Italy.  Not only that, she wants to be there with a friend.  Not only that, a spiritually-minded friend (who also likes to party once in a while).

All of a sudden, Italy was back.  Closer than ever.

I had chills the entire time, and so did W.  (And we both knew what that means.)

During our conversation, I remembered Abraham-Hicks’s concept of ‘the grid’, which is basically the art of coming into alignment with the essence of that which we desire.  That is, focusing more on the feeling of having/living our desire(s), rather than the details of how to acquire it.

When we overly focus on the details, things can feel forced and stressful, creating inner resistance.  It’s then challenging to find the flow in life, and we feel stuck. At that point we can choose to let it go, allowing Source/Spirit to bring it back to us when we’re more aligned (relaxed).

The desire doesn’t disappear.  It circulates.  Perhaps my dream of Italy was merely put on hold, to allow details of the grid – which I see as a ‘framework’ or ‘blueprint’ – to fill in. (In this case, through my friend W.).

I left our lunch walking a little taller, a spring in my step (though that could’ve been the green juice I’d just consumed).  But I had the thought:  if I am meant to go to Europe, why are aspects of staying in my city coming together so easily?

Maybe I need to first be at peace with where I am now, before anything else can happen.  And maybe there is no ‘meant to’ anyway.  We are masters of creation.  What we put our attention on, what we are aligned with, will come to fruition.  It’s not that one choice is more ‘right’ than the other; they are just different, and will lead to different experiences.  At this crossroads, I choose which path to travel.

So which choice feels better to me?  Which feels more exciting, more intriguing, puts a smile on my face, feels a little like magic?

It’s decision time.

Which means it’s time to be still, to breathe, to meditate, to be excited, to feel that excitement in my heart, and trust that whatever transpires will be physically aligned with that.  From that place, I win.


You know the really funny thing?  My next stop after lunch was meeting my folks in town for the city’s annual ‘Italian Days’ celebration.

Spirit has such a great sense of humour.

I am listening.

liminal spaces

i thought that once i gave my notice at work, it would be easier to be there. that i would sail through the next few months, my days brightened by the light at the end of the tunnel. clearing out my inbox/sub-folders and de-cluttering might be kind of fun, and maybe i would even feel sad about leaving (or, at the very least, bittersweet).

but it hasn’t really been that way.

i have worked in administration for years. i’m good at it, and have been fortunate enough to always find employment. but two years have quickly turned to five, and then ten. and in the past few months, i have felt a strong, unavoidable calling to stop doing this kind of work for good. (you can read my post ‘the email from 2005‘ for more details on that stark realization.) not surprisingly, clerical work has never fulfilled me creatively, spiritually, or physically. but i was able to ignore all that for years and, for the most part, was pretty ho-hum about it. the pitfall, of course, is that i was never motivated to pursue anything else.


i recently told my boss over lunch that it would be my last few months at the job. i needed to have that conversation – to speak those words aloud, solidify them, make myself accountable. i had to show myself that i was listening and honoring what i was feeling. i had thoughts of quitting for years, but never did anything about it. i consequently got to the place where i didn’t take myself seriously and trust myself to do what was best for me to do. i also had to have this conversation without having a plan in place, because there was (is) no plan. only a strong intuition that i could no longer put off the inevitable – and i wanted to be the one in control of how that played out.

on the way back from lunch, i found a five dollar bill on the ground. i immediately viewed it as a sign; an affirmation that i had made the right decision and that i would be supported. i emailed a friend about the found money, and she brilliantly suggested i go to safeway and buy some food for the food bank, to keep the flow going. which i did, and it felt so right.

within days of lunch with my boss, i started my blog. i was feeling pretty euphoric by then. the creativity was flowing and i was receiving many ideas and inspirations. i felt excited and hopeful for the first time in years. it was as though that one conversation over lunch opened up a crack in my psyche, and whatever had been lying dormant for years surged through the crevice. it had been waiting so patiently, watching so vigilantly, and when it finally saw its chance, the floodgates opened.


at first i was enjoying feeling more balanced at work. it actually felt ok to have a job that had become routine, as i was now also engaging in that creative part of myself and feeding my soul in a new and profound (yet totally familiar) way.

but lately something interesting is happening. the pendulum keeps moving in one direction instead of coming back to balance. the more i engage my creative side, the more that part of me that’s not living this is struggling. i am living in two different worlds, and my body/psyche knows which one it wants to inhabit all the time. previously, it didn’t know what it was missing. now it has discovered a fine, delicious wine, and wants to be drunk all the time. it doesn’t want the boring routine anymore, and in fact can’t do the routine anymore. this puts the ‘bigger picture’ me in a very uncomfortable and somewhat surreal place. i could disconnect before, but now i feel fragmented. and my battery feels fast running out of juice.

i realize just how much i have been compromising for years, and this is painful.


i’m in the liminal space, the edgy place of transition. inevitable, exciting change is happening, but the road ahead is unclear. and that’s uncomfortable. the map is fuzzy. contradictions abound. i’m told i need to have a plan. but that i must trust and surrender. “don’t quit your day job.” but don’t waste another second in misery. i need to pay the rent. but i can’t sit at a desk in a windowless office all day for much longer. (just the thought of that leeches the life force out of me.)

the thing with the liminal space is that there’s no going back. i took a class years ago that discussed the liminal space in a ritualistic, spiritual context – that it is marks the transition from ‘old’ to ‘new’, a rite of passage of sorts. yes, i feel like i’ve wasted years in an office job, but for whatever reason(s), transition was not previously possible. now it’s here. and though there is discomfort, there is also perspective and a knowing that it couldn’t have happened a second sooner than it did. and a place of unknowing, surrender, and mystery is (for me) infinitely better than stagnation.

seth godin puts it this way: “the reason that art (writing, engaging, leading, all of it) is valuable is precisely why i can’t tell you how to do it. if there were a map, there’d be no art, because art is the act of navigating without a map” (‘linchpin’, p. 150).

i like looking at my life as my art, and that my process of clearing my canvas allows me to discover new colours.  i know i’m not alone in the liminal space; most conscious beings are feeling some sort of unrest at this time. though i am uncertain of what will transpire in my life and on the planet in the coming months and years, i am grateful to have the choice and freedom to paint my piece of the picture.