Tag Archives: Peace

Make Peace with Love

11 Saturday Oct 2025

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Here it comes. Another boring, sentimental, grossly emotional blog about love.

Love is complicated and it is a power in and of itself. We can’t control love. We can’t make love do what we ask of it. It just is.

Love brings the greatest of joy and the deepest of pain. It punishes just as intensely as it rewards.

There are many different types of love. There is the love of a parent, constant, steady, and unconditional. There is the love of a partner, compromising, negotiating, laughing, crying, fighting and making up. There is the love we carry for those we have lost, messy, angry, wrenching, seeking and feeling lost. Unrequited love that continues to beat us down whilst simultaneously sprinkling hope of what could be over every breath taken. The love of a child, pure, selfish, goofy, tender, sweet and vulnerable. There is the love you have for an elderly parent, fearful of what is to come, proud to be their child, tired by the weight of a lifetime, wise beyond your years, solid as a rock. The love of a friend who showed-up just when you needed them and gave their best to you when you needed someone to believe in you. There is the love of a sibling, not always present, but always there, behind you, you know that they will always get your back when you need it.

I have had the honour of experiencing all of these loves, and more.

I feel privileged to be loved by many different people in as many different ways.

I just wish that it was easier to be, well, a human. My heart aches and burns, it twists and gnaws at me every single day for people I miss. I miss friends and family who live miles away. I miss friendships that have faded into the background of memories. I think about lovers, desired lovers, and I wonder what life could have been like if things had been different.

I get angry when I think about people who have intruded on my life, steering it in their own direction, acting selfishly and not from a place of love.

Don’t get me wrong. I feel all those cliche feelings of ‘not wanting anything to change’ because it ‘would mean I wouldn’t have my children.’ And this is true. Now. But, if things had been different, I wouldn’t know my children and I wouldn’t know what I would be missing; I would have different things. Maybe different children for whom I would have all the typical, cliche, feelings.

My Mom and I used to play all kinds of “choose your own adventure” type of games – If you could go back and redo a year of your life, what year would it be? If you could only save one of your siblings, which would it be? If you could only be with one person for the rest of your life, who would it be? And so on.

But, can’t I have it all? I want it all. I want to live in New Zealand and Canada at the same time. I want to be here where my stepdad lives and in Toronto. I want to be with my partner and my children, but I also want other experiences and relationships. I want to be with my family, but I also want to be alone. I want to go back and relive some experiences in my past (maybe do it better the second time around), but I also wouldn’t want to lose what I have now.

I want everything to change and nothing to change all at once.

Does anyone else live with this conflict pelting you in the face every day? How do you deal with it?

I blame love.

There is too much I love in life, too many people I love. Too many lived experiences I love and more experiences I would love to have. Too many countries I would love to live in. Love that exists alone, hiding in shadows afraid to be seen. Love. I love you. I love you. You break my heart, but I love you. You are a wicked, sinister, evil, devil. Your necessity just makes you more grotesque.

One day I will make peace with love.

Until then, I will continue to fight, to cry, to long, to reminisce, to wonder what could have been, to serve, to play; I will have fun, fight, search, smile, frown, learn, seek, comfort, and hope. Hope that one day I will feel more complete, that I won’t feel like I’m always competing with love.

One day I will make peace with love.

It’s Okay to be Okay

13 Thursday Mar 2025

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As time marches on, I am becoming better at being okay. My Mom is gone. I cannot bring her back, and there is little I can do to control any sadness, grief, feelings of emptiness, or the sting of loss. I have recently realized that I have been hiding from a lot of these feelings and experiences, shoving my head in the ground like an ostrich, pretending that the threats don’t exist.

But recently, I have forced myself to yank my head out of the ground and let everything be what it is. The most incredible thing has happened as a result, I have found that there are times that I am okay. More than that, I have come to learn that it’s okay to be okay.

I really struggled at the start when people would say to me, ‘what would your Mom want for you?’ All I could think, or feel was that she would want us to be together; she would want to be alive. Then, I would get angry.

I hid from things, and watched as my world fell apart; my house became a constant disaster zone, my children were becoming more feral each day, nobody was eating proper meals. It was as if I had totally given up on myself, my family, and my life.

Then, I realized one day while talking to Mom (yes, I talk to her…I’m not crazy. It just helps) that she would be so sad to see what I was allowing my life to become, and this upset me. I had to do something – for her sake.

It’s okay to grieve. It’s okay if this takes a long time or happens quickly. It’s okay to fall apart. It’s okay to hide your head in the sand. It’s okay to get angry at yourself for hiding.

And, most importantly, it’s okay to be okay.

As I have sat here this evening, enjoying my newly cleaned house, feeling refreshed by the amount of water I have consumed today, jazz going in the background, and ambient lighting reflecting the peace of my mind, I am okay.

And that’s okay.

2 Corinthians 3:3 – Hidden Messages

02 Monday Sep 2024

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Ghosts of who we are, who we were, and who we should have been haunt me every day.

Intimate moments shared with people who longed for me, and people for whom I longed, replay in my mind throughout the day.

What seems like several lifetimes of moments, memories, adventures, and experiences that refuse to rest. Speaking to me, warning me, encouraging me, and crying out to be released.

Relationships that could have been more – should have been more; requited and unrequited; passion and longing; connection and meaning; dark desire and innocent touch.

Crisp walks in the nighttime snow; breath upon breath and hearts beating wildly. Wanting to be safe and keep distant, longing to embrace and to be free to love one another.

Forehead kisses filled with lust. Hot breath, soft lips, and strong hands. Holding my head as if holding the world. Moments wherein dreams of another reality drift down like dew on our hearts.

Muscular forearms, promising protection and power. To be safe; loved; adored; coveted and claimed.

Another woman’s belongings. These are things that should not be in your life. Everything is out of place. Where is the lingerie and lace? The enthusiasm and excitement? I can see our things together – sharing space – a beautiful mess. It just feels right.

You have always been the one.

This is how it should have been.

We should have been together.

Years have been lost. Years of passion. Years of excitement. Years of bodies tangled and twisted in bliss – a level of completion that only we can accomplish. Together. As it was always meant to be.

My wish for you is that as you enter the next world, it is I who will be there with you – breathing warmly over you; kissing your lips tenderly; digging my fingers into your back; pulling you down. Closer. Deeper. Harder. Stronger. Louder. Forever. Ecstasy. Tenderness.

Forever together. Forever apart.

Let me in and lie with me awhile. We are together now. We can be free. Nothing need hold us back.
Nothing can stand in our way.
We are together. We are one.

We will enter eternity together – our energies forever fused, inseparable, entwined, twisted, coiled, and warped. For better or worse, you have changed my life just as I have changed yours.

I am glad I was able to contribute to some degree in your growth . . . although I must apologize for failing badly in other ways.

Round My Hometown

05 Saturday May 2018

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It is so strange to be back here. Back where it all began for me. This little town that formed so much of who I am, good and bad. Where I experienced so much joy, sadness, fear, shame, hurt, hope and love.

Each street breathes distant memories, rising up from the pavement and from walls of old buildings like dust being stirred by a strange wind. Sometimes the dust that rises is so thick I feel as though I cannot breathe.

I often ask myself how I will manage being surrounded by these oppressive memories, images and feelings. Will I ever manage to bring some stillness to this never-ending reel of embarrassments and moments of shame that I long to forget? Can I find joy here as well? Can memories that have long been stained and despised be redeemed?

I see a ghost of myself on every street, in corners, down ally’s, in buildings, and in the absence of buildings. She cries-out, asking to be found, to be rescued, to be safe, to be loved and to be free.

I search for ways to mend what was broken, picking up a piece of me that was left here, and a shard of me that was abandoned over there, and I attempt to find a way of putting them together that brings peace and makes me feel whole.

I ask myself if the town itself is oppressive, or if it’s just me – my own mind. I have no answer yet.

What can a person do, but keep pushing-forward, attempting to make things right, to find healing and peace and be better today than yesterday.

Taking Time for Me

07 Wednesday Jun 2017

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I’m thrilled to be sitting at the dining room table, listening to the oven gently whirring as it cooks my chicken breasts mixed with the sound of birds softly chirping and an occasional car passing-by on the highway.It is peaceful.

I have been longing to write. Craving some solid, uninterrupted and quiet time to be able to sit down and reflect on some things.

Despite living in the (somewhat) country again, it has been a flurry of activity ever since our things arrived. We have finally (mostly) settled-in and my husband has started a full-time job. This also means that, for the first time since my son was 11.2 months old, I am a stay-at-home Mom.

I love my son dearly, and he is wonderful to play with and really well behaved, but I feel like my brain is shrivelling – I miss adult conversation and interaction every day, and having adult tasks/duties and responsibilities in my adult workplace.

I have never imagined that I was really the right ‘make’ to be a stay-at-home Mom and have always, truly, envied woman who seemed so full and fulfilled in the role. The ability to keep themselves challenged and stimulated as individuals while devoting so much of their energy and attention to little ones is truly impressive to me. I am, perhaps, too lazy for this. Or, maybe, too picky or difficult to please.

But, whatever it is that makes it a challenge for me to assume this role, here I am anyways.

I recall before I had given birth to my child that I had this dream of what my days of leave would look like: my baby would be sleeping sweetly, having been fed, changed, cuddled and cared for with perfection by yours truly and I would be serenely sipping a cup of tea while writing my novel.

I don’t think I even wrote one single word (other than facebook posts) for most of that time. And even then, the posts were largely pleading for help, or just posting a cute picture (or 100 cute pictures) of my perfect child.

I have felt challenged, on a personal level, recently to really carve-out time for what it is that is special and important to me and the one thing to which I consistently return is writing.

I know that woman are always talking about this and there seem to be endless articles about the importance of taking time for yourself. But, that is definitely more easily said than done when there is a constant list of things that need to be done.

However, I have really been working on the art of prioritizing and being “ok” with things that are not urgent, being left undone a little bit longer while I enjoy a moment. Yesterday I sat outside while my son had his nap, with a cup of tea and a little slice of carrot cake and I read and caught-up on my “5 Year Journal” entries.

It wasn’t that bad, actually. It didn’t really put me that much further behind in the tasks I was hoping to accomplish. Here I am, Day 2 of trying to be intentional about taking a small chunk of time out of my day to do something that is just for me and so far, so good.

 Sit STILL…

02 Thursday Jun 2016

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One thing I don’t do very much of these days that I used to do all the time, is practicing the art of being still. Back when I was a Christian and heavily involved in church, worship and spirituality, I spent a lot of time sitting quietly. Meditating. Talking to God. Hoping he was there.

There is less of a reason to sit still these days. Or, so it seems.

It’s true that I, no longer, have this idea of a god with whom to sit and be still. I no longer need to spend time spouting off laundry lists of requests, or endless platitudes to prove how much I love him.

But, I am learning there are still plenty of reasons to sit still. To be still and know…

To be still and know…that the building across the street from our deck is gorgeous when it is bathed in the light from the setting sun.

To be still and know…that summer came after a long, difficult, winter and the trees have blossomed into gorgeous green boughs.

To be still and know…that I am ok. I have a safe place to live, I am well fed, I have a family who loves me, I have a job that pays the basic necessities of life, that my son is healthy and happy, and that I have a comfortable bed waiting for me.

Sometimes I still want to use the phrase “I am blessed”. Because I feel blessed. Not in a spiritual way, or as though these are gifts from God. But, my life is a privilege compared to what many others have to face and I don’t take that knowledge for granted.

I need to sit still and think about these things. To think about all the incredible things I have. The places I’ve been, the people I’ve known and the things I’ve done.

Sitting still and reflecting on these things puts my current circumstances into perspective. 

I have been blessed.

I am blessed.

Even if it’s just blessed by chance, or circumstances, or biology. 

I want to write more. But, it’s nearly impossible to write when I fill all of my time with sound, with screens, with social media and all the noises of the day.

I wanted to challenge myself for 6 weeks to write every day. I am learning that this will be impossible if I am constantly moving and filling my mind with stimuli. 

And so, I sit.

I forgot how beautiful this world could be.