Updated: Nov 8, 2018
I always get a kick out of those mall directories that have a “you are here” arrow, simultaneously informing me where I actually am, but also providing a gentle reminder about my existential presence in this world. Knowing that “I am here” has not always been easy.
I grew up in a world that demanded a lot from me, and directed me to shape myself into various forms as I grew and developed. Eventually, when I found myself in my mid 30’s, divorced and the mother of three children, and far from where I had intended to go, I was forced to stop, truly get to know myself and discover that no matter what, I am here.
The process hasn’t been effortless or seamless, and is still ongoing. When you are raised and instructed a certain way, but then take a detour from that path, it is not simple to discern your true self from inputted and uploaded data. Along the way, I realized that there were many others who could relate to the myriad of issues I was being confronted with: divorce, single parenting, dating, financial responsibility, sex, religion, self-identity, etc. So I did what any other unemployed single mother of three children would do: I took up new hobbies, travelled, dated, meditated, danced competitively, attended various workshops and retreats, got certifications, read, studied, questioned, created, played guitar, learned all types of yoga, juggled, drummed in drum circles, ran marathons, broke hearts, had my heartbroken, juice fasted, prayed, got my masters degree, started drinking coffee, surfed, ziplined, climbed mountains, took roadtrips, went to Cuba, stopped drinking coffee, did a ten day silent meditation retreat, snorkelled, hiked, formed a band, held a stingray, got high, spoke with psychics, started a non profit, sage cleansed my house, cooked and baked, started a business, and all the while somehow managing to keep three young children alive (not to mention clothed and fed).
I also talked to many, many people. Some who were going through similar experiences, and some who weren’t, but I learned nonetheless, that there are always elements of our stories that are relatable, and that sharing them helps not only create a sense of “i am here” but one of “we are here”.
This blog is about stories- stories I was told, stories I told myself, stories I believed, stories I rejected, stories I worked hard to create, stories that no one has ever heard, and stories that are achingly familiar.
This blog is about my process and how I used creative expression as a clutch, tool and medicinal balm.
This blog is part of that process- creating a space that helps me know myself, while allowing others to question whatever part of that they relate to.
This blog is not just about me
But it helps me remember
That I am here.