How can one possibly get so tired, be tired, stay tired, and yet keep on going?  I am absolutely worn out, inside and out, mentally, physically, and emotionally.  I’m doing a job I didn’t ask for, don’t want, and in some respects am not very good at.  Nursing was never on my list of career choices; I’m a teacher and an organizer and an administrator.  So what have I ended up doing?  Organizing stuff for Mum:  her medical care, her home needs, her shopping, her appointments, our entertainment.  Constant follow ups. My to-do lists often have at least 18 items listed; usually, about 12 of them are for her.  And because people keep telling me I need to take care of myself and do things for myself, I’m trying to have my own life–not that I’ve time for painting or writing or visiting or doing nothing (golly, doing nothing would be my first choice of what to do)–and keep my own household running smoothly.  I assure you, it isn’t.  My living room is a tip.  Filing and mail are stacked up in my office yet again.  I’m ‘way behind on answering emails.  Most days my bed gets made, but dirty laundry piles up and the day’s clothing doesn’t get put away.  Clean laundry simply goes through the wear-it-and-wash-it-again cycle.  Dust is evident nearly everywhere.  But my bathroom is always clean, the litter boxes scooped, and most days I get the dishes done plus the counters cleared (mainly ‘cos I don’t do much cooking here).  And a true joy is having a freshly made bed to fall into at night, usually later than is desirable.

My ideal weekend would be tea with toast and TV or a good book in a freshly made bed to start the day.  Sunshine so that I can sit on the balcony with a cup of tea and read a super, well-written novel.  No phone calls to make, except to friends, if I want to.  Just my cats and me.  Nowhere to have to go, unless I want to.  No rushing anywhere.  Time to meditate.  A nap in the afternoon.  Long showers.  Good food, well prepared, eaten slowly and mindfully.  More reading, perhaps with some gentle music (birds singing and water soothing) in the background.  A good movie in bed.  No having to get up the next morning unless I want to. Starting the next day with tea and toast and a good book in bed … sunshine on on the balcony … more reading, more good food, more tea, more music, more meditation.  And then to do it all over again the next day, and the next.  A whole week.  Sigh.  Ain’t gonna happen.   Not for a long, long time.


This is a timely and noteworthy article.  We need to take/make the opportunity to make end of life as comfortable as possible for everyone.  It will come to us all.

In BC, Caregiving Takes Toll on Finances, Career, Health

One million British Columbians are caring for friends or family — and paying a price because of inadequate supports.

By Linda Givetash 27 Oct 2016 | TheTyee.ca Linda Givetash is a Vancouver-based journalist reporting on health and human rights across Canada and around the globe.



As memory fades

Today Mum forgot her address.  I’d gone downstairs to get supper ready and told her I’d noted she’d phoned me several times throughout the afternoon while I was out but had left only one message.  She was in good spirits when I arrived, seeming quite clear, but she said she’d needed my phone number so she was calling me to check it.  She couldn’t remember my address, either, she said, starting to get a tad panicky.  As I could see her confusion and wasn’t sure whether she actually meant my phone number or my address, I told her both my suite number and her suite number, with our street address.  Then she said she wouldn’t remember anyway, and started rather frantically looking for paper to write on, so I suggested we do it later ‘cos it was time for dinner.  Easily distracted, she seemed satisfied.

Going into the kitchen to check on dinner, I was truly sad.  Certainly her short term memory has been diminishing for some time—tell her something, like the day or date or when her next home helper is coming, and a while later she’ll ask again.  Or she repeats something she’s just told me.  Several times.  But it seems lately simple things are getting more difficult for her to remember, even things she’s known for a long time.  Like her address.  She’s never been particularly good with numbers; it’s a standing family joke that she can’t remember phone numbers, but my phone number at least was one she’d never had to look up.  I’ll be writing the contact info for both of us on a sheet of paper and taping it to the wall beside her bed.  That solves the immediate problem, but of course can’t make up for the fact that this is yet another example of her fading memory.

Sometimes it’s okay for me; other times, it’s most frustrating.  I don’t usually mind if she repeats herself.  I don’t usually mind if she can’t instantly recall the day or the date or the home helper.  I didn’t mind about this.  But when she asks me a question about how to do something and I find myself explaining it over and over, it becomes painful for me and often I give up in frustration.  I notice that she can manage one or two or three steps, but anything more complicated is no longer retained.  She’s started asking, “What do I do next?” when she’s getting up to come into the living room or go to the bathroom.  These are the same routines she’s been doing for months, but no longer are they simple, automatic procedures for her.  Ah, me. This is so difficult to see.

And I know there is worse to come.  Sigh.

… creating balance!

I DID IT. I cleared out the rest of the old 2008 – 2011 stuff. Gone, gone, gone! I’m so relieved and liberated. It’s amazing how much the energy in here has changed. I don’t think we realize how easily energy can actually be changed (although since it takes so long to get ourselves going, maybe I ought to be talking about how difficult it is to change energy!).

So not only have I created some new physical space, I’ve also created some mental space, plus some spiritual space. As the physical clutter was removed, so was the mental clutter. Now I’m feeling more focussed and ready to re-implement some of my practices. Talk about connections! lol And since it was a sunny afternoon, I opened the patio door and let in some fresh, new energy. So tonight I’ll smudge, and look forward to a new beginning in my new energy starting tomorrow.

Clearing space …

So I’m a day late (and a dollar short, as my dad would say), but I celebrated today by being on my own and doing things for myself. I’m realizing more and more how sadly lacking is balance in my life and that I must make every effort to reclaim it. First, I did a few chores around the house, generally tidying and cleaning a bit and getting rid of stagnant energy. This afternoon I went to a support group sponsored by the Alzheimer’s Society. It’s led by a woman I truly admire and respect, and even though I’ve attended these sessions before, I love hearing her stories and thus always get something out of them. She is certainly sharing her gifts with the world!

I had a huge box of old bills and receipts from years ago, plus another box of old mail, old bills, receipts, flyers. ALL GONE. I feel terrific. There’s a large black garbage bag sitting next to another large box of already discarded papers, all awaiting my trip to the shredder in a couple of weeks. (I have more to do, but only two more shopping bags plus another box that’s already been sorted once and needs putting away–or not.) The more I have them, the more I love purging parties. 😀 When I’m done–hopefully by the end of tomorrow–I’ll smudge, and welcome the new energy back into my space. Cleaning. Clearing. Calming. BALANCE.

And so in this time of rebirth and renewal, I’m working on renewing myself. I feel as if I’m coming out of a long, deep, stultifying sleep, as if I’m awakening from hibernation. Every day I’m feeling a little more connected to myself again. Certainly this is a time of changing cycles, isn’t it?

Stop Trying to Fix Me


Please, don’t try to fix me. I am not broken. I have not asked for your solutions.

When you try to fix me, you unintentionally activate deep feelings of unworthiness, shame and failure within me. I can’t help it. I feel like I have to change to please you, transform myself just to take away your anxiety, mend myself to end your resistance to the way I am. And I know I can’t do that, not on your urgent timeline anyway. You put me in an impossible bind. I feel so powerless.

I know your intentions are loving! I know you really want to help. You want to serve. You want to take away people’s pain when you see it. You want to uplift, awaken, caretake, educate, inspire. You truly believe that you are a positive, compassionate, unselfish, nice, good, kind, pure, spiritual person.

But I want you to know, honestly, friend, I feel like a steaming pile of shit when you try to ‘love’ me in this old way. It doesn’t feel loving to me at all. Quite the opposite. It feels like you’re trying to relieve your own tension by controlling me. Under the guise of you being ‘kind’ and ‘helpful’ and ‘spiritual’, I feel suffocated, smothered, rejected, shamed, and completely unloved. I feel abandoned in your love! Do you get that? I feel like you don’t actually care about ME, even though on the surface it sure looks like you care! But deep down it feels like you are holding an image of how I should be. Your image. Not mine!

It looks like your love but it feels like your violence. Do you understand?

Yet as soon as you stop trying to ‘help’ me, you are of the greatest help to me! I stop trying to change to please you! I feel safe, respected, seen, honored for what I am. I can fall back into my own power. I can trust myself again, the way you are trusting me. I can relax deeply.

Without your pressure, your demand for me to abandon myself and be different, healed, transformed, enlightened, awakened, mended, ‘better’, I can better see myself. I can discover my own inner resources. I can touch my own powerful presence. I feel safe enough to allow and express my true feelings, thoughts, desires, hold my own perceptions. I no longer feel smothered, a victim, a little child to your expert adult. The courageous adult in me rises. I breathe more deeply. I feel my feet on the ground. Loving attention drenches my experience, even the uncomfortable parts. My senses feel less dull. Healing energies emerge from deep within. I feel light, free, liberated from your fear. I feel respected, not shamed. Seen, not compared to an image.

You help me so much when you stop trying to help me, friend! I need my own answers, my own truth, not yours. I want a friend, present and real, not an expert or a savior.

And do you see, when you are trying to save me, you are actually abandoning yourself? You are running from your own discomfort, your own unlived potential, and focussing on mine? I become your ultimate distraction. I don’t want to be that for you anymore.

Let’s break this cycle together! Let’s stop trying to fix or save each other. Let’s love each other instead. Bow to each other. Bless each other. Hold each other. As we are. As we actually, actually, actually are.

– Jeff Foster

Photo: Lisa Bonet


Embody your Wild Nature

Deep women are often misunderstood because they are extraordinary. They are once in a life time kind of people. Deep women are different. And what makes deep women different is who they are; their big hearts, intelligent minds and kind Spirits.

Their depth itself. People aren’t good at understanding what’s different, they’re not great at embracing it and most importantly, they don’t know how to keep it.

Deep women are misunderstood because they are unusual. They are not like most women out there who give a shit about what people think of them.

They are not afraid of speaking their mind; they are strong-headed, bold, brave.

Deep women are comfortable in their skin. They Love who they are and they own it.

They are self-aware of their strengths and weakness so they are always evolving to better versions of who they are. People might think they would change their essence for someone but the truth is that they are open-minded; open to change, compromise, and personal development.

They have a heart of gold. They don’t judge people and accept them for who they really are. They don’t jump into conclusions about people they’ve just met or people in their life. They believe in second and 99 chances. Deep women don’t give-up on people instead they fight for them until the end.

They see the beauty in people. They fall in Love with their flaws. And because they see the best in people, deep women are called naïve. Their eyes see beauty in what is broken, their hands feel tenderness in what’s damaged.

They feel everything. They feel pain and pleasure. They feel happiness and sadness. They feel confident and they feel insecure. They feel calm and anxious. Deep women are empathic because they feel other people’s feelings. People’s energy becomes theirs. People’s problems become of their own. And because deep women are connected to those around them in such a delicate way, they are seen as “sensitive”,” too emotional”, “too much”.

Deep women are passionate and love life. They adore kids. They are crazy about animals, food, travelling, music and the little things. Their passion for love is mistaken for desperation because they are committed. They pour their heart in everything they do. Their eyes are always glowing. Their positive attitude is often taken as being too enthusiastic or just plain fake.

They are thoughtful. They think about the little and the big things. They feed on details. They look for what is below the surface. They search for the magical side to people that they lock away. Deep women remember everything you tell them because they pay attention not because they want to have some sort of leverage on you when the opportunity presents itself.

They notice things about you that you don’t notice about yourself. They know your quirks like no one else does. They know your favorite things in the world by heart. Deep women are told they are complicated because they over-think while in fact they’re just complex.

Deep women are one of the best things that could ever happen to someone because they present to you a different level of life. A deeper one, a more meaningful one.

They help you fall back in love with who you are and reconnect to the world as a whole. They show you what really matters in life and why it does.

We need more deep women in this world who make life more than a journey; a lifetime dream worth fighting for. Deep women should be celebrated. Their depth should be praised and recognized.

-Farah Ayaad

Embody your Wild Nature