Speak your truth. Reclaim your power.
I have a confession to make.
I haven’t written a blog in 12 whole months. And I’ve felt very conflicted about it.
On one hand, I’ve had plenty to say and have started many drafts. On the other hand, I’ve been severely lacking in follow through.
And that’s just plain sucked.
And I’ve come up with all sorts of answers. Or perhaps they were just excuses.
Years ago, a thoughtful manager of mine wrote “be gentle on your soul” inside a beautiful journal she’d given me as a going away gift.
I was young and full of hope.
Both excited and nervous about taking such a huge leap of faith, into the unknown.
I’ve never forgotten how good it felt to open the cover of that journal, and read her words for the very first time.
Be gentle on your soul.
Ahhhhhh.
They resonated deep within me.
And gave me the permission, I unknowingly craved, to treat myself more kindly. As I took risks, and moved forward into the uncharted territory of my life.
And felt like the long, dark days were closing in on you?
If so, you’re not alone.
I live in Vancouver, and while we don’t get a lot of snow in the winter, we do get our fair share of cold, grey, rainy days.
Every January or February I get hit by the winter doldrums. And my mood begins to feel as grey as our weather.
I want to climb under a big, warm comforter. And stay there.
Forever.
For as long as I can remember I’ve been asking myself the BIG questions in life.
What’s my purpose? Why am I here? What should I be when I grow up?
Well I’m all grown up now (and have been for a while), so it may seem odd to hear that I still struggle with these questions.
But struggle I do.
You see while I may be a life coach with a passion for personal growth, I’m also a huge numbers geek.
I once heard grief is like a thumbprint. That no two are alike.
Now, more than ever, I really get that.
After losing my mother a few months ago, I began my own roller coaster ride of grief.
Sometimes I felt terribly sad. That she, my one and only mother, had permanently left this world.
I didn’t care that she was almost 92. And had lived a long life. She was still my mother. And she was gone. Forever.
How could that possibly be? It shocked me to my core. And hurt like hell.
The gifts you were born with that make you uniquely you? The ones you were meant to share with the world?
Recently I was reminded of mine. And the timing couldn’t have been more perfect!
I was in the middle of a challenging situation with a colleague. I was feeling criticized and dismissed. As though I was just a number.
A cog in the wheel. Nothing special.
The exact opposite of how I believe we all deserve to feel.
As a result, my confidence was taking a hit. I began second-guessing myself. And everything I said or did.
I felt like I was walking on eggshells (always a bad sign for a recovering people-pleaser like me).
My intuition was on high alert. My brain began screaming “danger, danger, pay attention!”
So I decided to take a step back and analyze the situation a bit more carefully. To sit with my anxiety instead of run from it. To see what my body – always a barometer for my soul – had to say.
A girlfriend of mine recently said something that gave me pause.
Worthy of me?
What a concept! It seems so basic.
Yet I realized the truth of it as soon as she said it. That I’ve actually had it backwards all my life.
I’ve worked so hard to show them that I’m good, kind, smart, and capable.
And even more, that I’m not too needy, too emotional, or lord help me, too dependent! For fear they would run in the opposite direction.
Ugh. Seriously?! Wtf is up with that?
