What’s In a Name?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on September 28, 2022

Once upon a time, I wrote poetry. I also felt very damaged. Hence, fragmentedpoet was born. Also, once upon a time, my niece bought me fridge magnet poetry words, and it was super cool! I came up with some pretty unique poems that weren’t so much derived from a thought process, but made up on the spot with words that I had available…then of course, stuck on the fridge. Fun times!

This is such a poem and I’ve added to it, giving it context and a little meaning. Hope you enjoy, my faithful readers. xo

Lilith

“Use the voice.”

Her laugh was like smoke and poison

A broken flower to him,

A porcelain ghost to herself.

“Can the crap”, she whispered.

“Sex is just an iced peach martini –

Ask it to throb and feel it melt

Like a warm spring morning.”

He left her there,

In shadows that clung to her flesh like mist to a mountain

In half waking dreams and fingerprints of lust

“Come here”, she beckoned.

No. Demanded.

He never had a choice so why pretend?

Arms opened and eyes that left him

breathless with mingled regrets and boyish hope,

he followed her into nirvana.

Life Goes On

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 15, 2022

When I began my journey of self-development after the whole Brian incident, I had no idea where I’d land. In fact, it’s still an ongoing process. At the time, I was on a spiritual mission that quickly became a mental health advocate mission. In the last 7-years, I’ve gotten 2 certifications (Life Coaching and Life Counselling) and 1 diploma (Counselling Hypnotherapy).

As the Province that I live in will soon be regulated for Counsellors – I have to yet take another course to get my Counselling Diploma so that I can become an RTC (Registered Therapeutic Counsellor). This will take me approximately 1 more year as I don’t intend to start until next Jan.

To all of you who work full-time and attempt to go back to school full-time, I feel your exhaustion and your pain. It really is a lot of work.

Changing careers in your late 50’s isn’t for the faint of heart and takes a lot of determination and dedication. I never would have seen myself taking this on and had a very different idea of how my life would look at this stage of the game. I wanted to write and get published. I have 2 really good partially written manuscripts that I wonder if I’ll ever get back to. Maybe in my late 60’s?? Who knows…?

I ask myself, sometimes, if all of this is just my way of coping with the trauma and unsatiated grief that still wells up, occasionally. I don’t have an answer for that but suspect it to be at least part of the equation.

Either way, I’ve learned a hell of a lot about human behavior and how to help people move forward with their lives.

I’m having my website re-done to reflect being a Counselling Hypnotherapist and will update, soon!

Still working on quitting my day job but that will come in the next 3-5 years, possibly sooner if I’m really lucky. 😉

New life chapter printed on a vintage typewriter

Never Take the Ability to Talk for Granted

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 22, 2021

At the tail end of 2015 something very ordinary happened to me that turned out to be anything but ordinary. As many do in the winter months, I caught the very well-known virus called: the common cold. No biggie, right? Wrong. Said cold turned into laryngitis. Laryngitis, after many doctor visits and several ENT appointments, became vocal cord paresis. What that translates into is: one of my vocal cords stopped working properly. Who knew that your vocal cords could catch a cold?

The result was that it was really difficult to talk normally – and in fact, I couldn’t. My voice was high, breathy, pitchy and sometimes really weird and alien sounding. I also choked a lot on liquids, had constant gunk in the back of my throat (which I was forever and annoyingly clearing) and people just couldn’t understand what I was saying. So, my doctor, after about 4-month of ‘waiting for it to heal’ finally referred me to ENT (Ear Nose and Throat Dr.) #1. He didn’t do much other than send me to a speech therapist and said: well, there’s nothing we can do!

Off I want to referred speech therapist. She told me that this didn’t ‘have’ to be a permanent solution and in fact, there was something that could be done about it – turns out several somethings – and thus, she recommended me to ENT #2.

ENT #2 injected a kind of filler in my vocal cords so that there wouldn’t be such a gap. The problem was that they weren’t connecting properly because part of right vocal cord was paralyzed and had nerve damage. This really didn’t do very much, was painful (think really long needle plunged into your throat) and temporary. Unfortunately, this was the only option at the time as I was told I wasn’t a good candidate for a permanent implant.

This went on for a few years and I was clearly frustrated so ENT #2 referred me to ENT #3 who was the BEST of the BEST. At least in the Lower Mainland of Vancouver.

I liked her. She tried a different type of filler and it worked better. One caveat, though, it only lasted about 4-5 months. So, I constantly had to be topped up. Again…really big needle in the throat. Hurt like hell. The thought of having to get this for the rest of my life was daunting. What if this Dr. moved away? What would happen if she retired? I mean, she was the BEST out there. Could I settle for second best?

Also, I ‘used’ to be a singer. Now I wasn’t performing – unless you count crooning at the top of my lungs in my car on the way to work – but I really loved singing and damn it, I was good! Emphasize the word ‘was’.

After my courtship with Mr. laryngitis, I sucked. I sucked really, really bad. It was like I’d suddenly developed tone deafness. I couldn’t hit the right note if my life depended on it, I ran out of air, easily, and sometimes my voice would take on this bizarre deep multi-tone wobble that sounded like I was possessed by a demon. A demon who loved to sing along to Tayor Swift.

I know you’re picturing that in your head. The Taylor Swift demon impressionist. Weird, isn’t it?

Sorry ‘bout that.

Anyway. It was terrible! Some people got used to it, but most were simply annoyed or thought I constantly had a cold. This got really interesting around the start of COVID and I finally started explaining that I did NOT have a cold (or COVID) and got into waaaay too much detail about my condition. I’m sorry ‘bout that, too.

Finally, one day in March of this year (after over FIVE YEARS of dealing with this BS) ENT #3 was willing to try the implant (permanent solution). Whoo hoo!! I was excited! But I also had to have my throat cut open and …

Be. Awake. During the procedure.

O.o

I had to be able to talk to them as she stuffed in and then yanked out, different sizes of the implants into a little hole that she drilled into my thyroid cartilage. She had to know which size worked best to get the optimum result. Yes, that’s a yucky image. Once again, I apologize.

Seems fair, though, that this was an acceptable procedure. If it was the incorrect size of implant, it wouldn’t have worked so well.

By now you’ve guessed that I’ve done this. And yes, I have! I’m happy to say that I actually do have my original voice back. I’ve missed you, Voice! People who haven’t heard it in nearly 6-years were a little taken aback, but that’s okay. Singing is still an issue but I’m working on that with another amazing speech therapist and she’s a singer, too, so she gets it.

Where I’m going with this long-winded, and sometimes cringe-worthy, story, is – that during that time, I was extremely frustrated. Not being able to talk properly was a massive hinderance. I sell for a living (my day job) and council/coach in my spare time. This involves a lot of talking (also listening but my ears weren’t the problem).

I got angry. Angry that it was hard to understand me. That I had to repeat myself constantly. That life just went on for everyone else, but I was stuck struggling to communicate. I kept thinking: if only people would listen harder!

So, imagine those that have a much more difficult time talking (something we all take for granted) – maybe they can’t talk at all, or need a device to assist them. What if I was born deaf or mute or both, and suddenly, I couldn’t use sign-language as my way to communicate? What would it be like to be trapped in that predicament instead of the small inconvenience that I lived with? I mean…I could still talk – it was just difficult to be understood most of the time, but I adapted. Over the years I got better and even though I was pitchy and talked in a much higher register than I used to, I managed.

Now that I sound like ME again, I’m starting to feel I was being a whiny little wretch, feeling all sorry for myself while not even considering that I was lucky to still be able to talk at all. We take so much for granted and this is a very basic one. I mean, if you’re a parent and reading this, you will well remember your child(ren)’s first word; it’s a big deal! Even my mom remembers mine (she’s 85 btw). And it was “no” in case you’re wondering. Or probably more accurately: “NO!” Haha.

Humans need to communicate and be heard. It’s what we do long before we write – we cry to express ourselves, speak or sign to be heard, laugh to show humour and sing to feed our soul.

But when it’s taken from us or even partially taken, we feel somehow violated, like something was stolen.

I am so grateful to Dr. Hu and her team. I’m still healing (and there is one nasty ass scar on my neck) but in just over a month after surgery the results are incredible. I’m me, again.

*Happy Snoopy Dance*

10 Things I’ve Learning from Living in a Global Pandemic

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 7, 2021

COVID or Corona? I’m glad we’ve all begun to adopt the COVID-19 name for this virus because Corona wasn’t cutting it. It made people think of beer; some even swearing off said Mexican brew just because of the name association. No Corona beer does NOT cause COVID, despite a bunch of dumb people thinking so.

More for the rest of us, I say! On a hot summer day, there’s nothing better than a cold Corona with a wedge of lime. Am I right?

I’m a Canadian (who likes Mexican beer) and finally we’re starting to reach an acceptable vaccination ratio that will enable us to start returning to life as ‘somewhat’ normal. In my Province, I’m told by Sept., things will be considerably better as those of us who are smart enough to get the jab, will be fully inoculated.

So, what have I learned as we start to emerge from this nightmare?

TP brings out the worst in us.

Never. Ever. EVER underestimate the value of butt wipe. Seriously, the hording of toilet paper has left many of us traumatized. When the value of TP overrides the value of essential things like: food, clean water, shelter etc. it’s time to reevaluate how humans think. WTH people!?!?!

I have fond childhood memories of visiting my cousin’s farms where the outhouses only had old Sears catalogues to wipe your butt. Really! There was no running water when visiting Dad’s relatives when I was a tyke.

Imagine all the Sears catalogues that would have been horded if this would have happened in the 70’s in all of Canada’s rural areas. Closets filled with stacks and stacks of Christmas, Spring, Summer and Winter Sears editions, cloistered away like holy relics in case one ever ran out. I have a funny story about trying to sell my mother’s old Sears catalogues (door-to-door for a nickel) when I was about 5. I won’t get into the particulars, but if COVID-19 had come to town in 1971, and had I lived on a farm… I would have been RICH. As it was, I didn’t sell one darn issue. True story. Mom found me out when our neighbour snitched on me. Thanks. Mrs. W.

And it’s not like there wasn’t enough TP to go around in 2020, there was plenty! It was just those SOB’s who got frantic at the thought of doing without that caused the buying mayhem. But(t) why toilet paper? Why not water or food? I get the hand sanitizer but why not soap? Humans are crazy animals…you can’t survive on toilet paper, people!

2. To believe or not to believe?

People (some, anyway) would rather believe in conspiracy theories than keep themselves and the people that they love, safe. I mean, let’s pretend that I didn’t believe that there was a worldwide pandemic. Let’s pretend that I thought the WHOLE THING was made up to wreak havoc on the world’s economy and put billions into the pockets of vaccine companies. Say I was naive enough to think that. If I were, I’d always wonder at the back of my mind: What if?? What IF there really was this terrible virus going around infecting people and killing indiscriminately?

Would I really want to take that chance in infecting myself?? I mean, as I write this, 3.7 million people have died and even if I doubted that, what if it were all true (she says in a harsh whisper)? And if it were true, what if… what if I got infected while complaining about my civil liberties being infringed upon by being (forced no less) to wear a bit of cloth in front of my nose and mouth while I’m near other people – and what if I infected someone… and they DIED?

I mean, come on!! How hard is it to wear a mask, anyway?! Is it really worth murdering Grandma over? Let’s be honest, when this thing first came out, it was the elderly and others with compromised immune systems who were most at risk for mortality. SO. If I didn’t believe in it and thought all of the governments and health systems were lying to every single human being on the planet – is it worth risking Grandma?! Or in my case, my elderly mother?

Well, apparently so! And now (we totally knew this was going to happen) because viruses mutate, we’ve got a bunch of new Bad Boys on the block called “Variants” (please let that never be the name of a boyband) that’s serving up a monster case of whoop ass to a number of countries and it’s killing like wildfire in a tinder-dry forest. Social distancing? What’s that? Staying the hell home? No way! Cover your face? Why?!

Unbelievable. I suspect a lot of these folks are flat-earthers, too. PSA: I want to thank all of you nutty folks for outing yourselves. Now that we know who you are, we can all avoid you.

3. Vaccine woes.

A lot of the believers are more afraid of the cure than the disease. O.o Yup, even us people who realize this amazingly contagious virus is real and is actually taking a lot of lives while leaving others to never quite recover completely from the hell they went through, are more worried that the cure will harm us rather than being worried what the virus could do to us. This, despite repeated stories of pure HELL from those that have survived. And those that got a little sick? Well, that’s no fun, either! Yes, there are a spare lucky few who are asymptomatic, but it’s not like you can take a test for that. You take your chances, folks.

So why is it that even though we are capable of sending robots to another planet, so few trust our ability to manufacture a vaccine in 9-months? It’s not ‘new’ technology, we’ve had decades of practice! Even the ‘newish’ MRNA vaccine has been worked on for over 30 years. And yes, there a few of the regular vaccines that have a very rare unfortunate side-effect. I get that, you take your chances there, too. But given the choice, I took a gamble with AstraZenica. Why? Because it was the first one offered to me. It was worth the risk and I’m fine. The chances of getting a blood clot from COVID are 10 x higher. We’ve literally vaccinated millions and millions of people and guess what? The virus is receding. Guess it actually works, eh? Imagine that.

4. Masking up.

Putting on a mask is more complicated than algebra. You’d think wearing a strip of cloth that’s supposed to go over your nose and mouth with two elastics that you stick behind your ears would be self-explanatory. But no…no, clearly it’s not. I’ve stopped counting the number of people I see wearing their masks: a) below their chins, just covering their mouths and not their nose (do they just breath through their mouth when they do this? How uncomfortable!), b) partway covering their nose (hoping no one will notice) or c) wearing something other than a proper mask – like pulling up their turtleneck sweater to cover their mouth thinking this is the way to do it. I saw that. I can’t unsee it. Ever.

Really, people! You know this is an air-born virus and that you typically breath through your nose (breathing IN the virus) and talk through your mouth (spreading that damn thing around) right?? I know it’s uncomfortable, especially when it’s warm or when you’re working out. I get that, really, I do – I rock climb with a mask on for heavens sake; you can’t imagine the sweat building up on my face behind that thing. But still, I wear it because it’s the rule and because it’s the right thing to do. And if you’re one of those privileged idiots who thinks wearing a little piece of cloth on your face interferes with your sovereign rights, I want to remind you of the rights that others have around you to NOT get infected and possibly DIE because you’re being a spoiled little brat. It’s not always about YOU, you, selfish narcissist.

5. How to wash your hands for dummies.

If you didn’t know how to properly wash your hands pre-deadly virus, there is absolutely no excuse now. I’ve never seen so many videos, posters with step-by-step pictures and people advocating for hand washing as I’ve seen in the past 1.5 years. One wonders why a race that can send people to the moon and beyond has to be told how to wash their hands like a bunch of 3-year old’s yet…here we are. So, for those of us who are still confused, here is what the CDC has to say about that. When and how to wash your hands.

6. Following instructions 101.

Human beings simply can’t behave themselves and stay away from each other, even if it means risking their lives. How difficult is it to keep to yourself? Well, for some of us, it’s impossible. I think if one could actually see COVID-19 flying around in the air, things would be different, but because it’s invisible to our naked eye – if we can’t see it, it’s not there, right? Wrong. Despite all this dying business and suffering, not being able to party seems to be oh-so-much worse. I wonder why that is? And it’s not just the young fools who thought they were all immune and didn’t give a crap about spreading it – it’s grown-ups, too.

Are we such a sociable creature that we can’t keep apart from other (at the very least 6 ft.) until this all blows over? Can’t we be good little girls and boys because not doing so will only make this madness last longer? Nope. We can’t. Well, some of us can’t resist the crowds, causing ‘super spreaders’ that result in more unnecessary deaths.

I’ve personally never liked crowds and have no problem staying the hell away from others.

And the introverts shall inherit the earth.

7. At the end of the day, we’re all just a bunch of little kids acting out to get attention.

People are stupid; really stupid. Some actually held COVID-19 parties thinking that if they got infected and survived that they’d then be immune. Yeah. It really happened. And what was the result? A lot of people got sick and some of them never recovered. Are you automatically immune to COVID after you’ve had it? NO. Are you immune to the flu? NO! Why is that, you ask? Because (again) viruses mutate and the one strain that you may have gotten over is now a very different strain. In fact, there are a bunch of them, and not only do they spread faster but some are deadlier.

8. If there is a loophole to cheat, people will find it.

In Canada, our government gave those folks who lost their job due to COVID a bunch of money so they could survive. They also gave companies money to help pay their workers their full wages in case they couldn’t due to a downturn in their business. While this is totally awesome and the rollout for handing out our tax dollars to those in need was swift, there really was no back-end checks to make sure people who were claiming CERB were actually eligible. There was also no accountability to companies who got money and were supposed to use that to top up their employee’s wages.

I personally know people who falsely acquired thousands of $$ claiming they were unemployed due to COVID when in fact, they had been unemployed (and unemployable as well as collecting disability cheques from the government) for years. I also know of a few companies that reduced their employee’s wages, collected CERB but didn’t use that to top them up; they just kept the money. Then there are the landlords/ladies who applied for $$ to help cover the cost of renters who couldn’t pay their full rent because of unemployment and got their full rent, anyway.

Shameful. It will take years for our Canadian Government to collect all of this back – if ever. This is what happens when you put your trust in people and hand out free money. Lesson learned? Hell no, we’re talking about the government, here.

9. With enough ingenuity, some companies can turn on a dime and help save themselves (and everyone else).

It’s not all bad! I’ve read about many companies that instead of rolling over and giving up, they were able to innovate and make something or offer something that everyone needed instead of what they were initially making/offering. Here are some fine examples of smarts.

I could go on and on. Many people stepped up to the plate and produced what we needed in this time of crisis. Well done!

10. Some of us have learned to be kinder, seeking answers by looking inward and growing as souls.

Despite all of the shitty things humans have done to each other during the past year and a bit, many have taken this time to be better people. I walk around my neighbourhood and see signs on people’s lawns asking us to be kind to one another. I see painted rocks left on fences and in the woods with words like: Love, Patience, Healing and Hope in bright summer colours.

And even though we can’t be with each other physically, online live video platforms such as Zoom, GoTo Meetings, TEAMS, Google Chat and Facebook have let us still see each other no matter where we are in the world. Seeing and hearing other people helps us cope and interact. It improves communication and understanding.

Before COVID, I saw my boss only when he flew from Edmonton to Vancouver (maybe once a year). He’d only ever call me on my cell or email me if he wanted to communicate. Now, he TEAM calls me and I see his face (and his family’s cute new puppy) nearly every day. It makes a difference because we can see each other’s facial expressions and read our body language. I also get to virtually meet people in my company whom I never would have, otherwise. When we can see and hear each other, we build better social bonds.

Being compassionate and putting others before ourselves yet still taking care of our own needs is not only important during a global pandemic, but in normal life. I now mostly sign off on my emails with: stay safe and be well. It’s heartening.

If we take away anything from all of this, I hope that it will be to remember we’re all in this together, we are all fallible, messy, beautiful human beings who are here to do one thing: have a human experience.

Now…please don’t hoard toilet paper! There really is enough to go around.

Peace. xo

The ‘What If?’ Factor

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 7, 2021

Recently I had another birthday and I’m now officially smack dab in the middle of my 50’s. It’s been an interesting decade, thus far. And, of course, in a few months I’ll put another imaginary ‘tick’ on the imaginary calendar in my head and write- Brian 6-years died by Suicide.

It’s not that I’m worried I’ll forget about it, but for some odd reason those who have been through complex grief, tend to measure time, going forward, with references back to the traumatic grief (be it a death, divorce, breakup…etc.). It’s as of time was different before the trauma. And well, it was.

So, this year (6-years since Bri flew our earthly plain) I started thinking about life a little differently. I started wondering what my life would have been like, who I’d be and where I’d be if I’d never met him. It’s not that I’m regretting it, but let’s be honest, I was a very different person before the whole Brian episode, and I emerged a whole new person afterwards.

Let’s rewind 6-years and 3 months, shall we?

It’s January of 2015. I’d just been dumped (via text no less) by a guy that I’d just spent (hard earned) cash on for a Christmas/present trip to the West Coast of Vancouver Island to go storm watching. I paid for the hotel/ferry/food, etc. To be fair, he did drive, so there’s that. I also made him buy me lunch on the way back; he never would have volunteered so I simply told him this is what was going to happen. Yeah, I was being a bit bitchy, but I was also being taken advantage of by someone who chose to earn just barely above minimum wage because he wanted to be a ‘minimalist’.

If you’d seen his apartment, he was anything but. He was a hoarder and a bit of a jerk. Okay, he was a giant jerk and on New Year’s Eve ditched me with a cryptic text. I wasn’t even upset, just relieved. Moving on, then…

Despite getting dumped on the last day of 2014, I was really in a good place in my life and had all of my ducks in a row. I was in good shape for 49, I was debt free, and I was making some decent money in my job which I really liked. All in all, I was happy just being me. There were cool hobbies that kept me busy, I had my cat Zephyr (best kitty EVER), a really nice place to live and I was even saving money to buy my own condo.

Life was good! Then I met Brian, and nothing was the same ever again – but that’s another story that you’ll find in lots of older blog posts.

So – had I carried on and maybe not even dated…just hung out with me/myself and Z (the cat), where would I be today? I certainly wouldn’t have become a Life Coach because that had never crossed my mind; I didn’t even know what a Life Coach did and had never heard of it. You can cross out life counselling too and if you’d have told me that this would be something I’d love doing, I would have informed you that you’re very mistaken.

There is a lot of:

~maybe this would have happened…

~or perhaps I’d have met this kind of person …

~and what if I’d really buckled down and went into a whole new direction…what would that look like, today?

These are great questions and as I ponder them, the sky is really the limit. I had a plan, you see. Well, I sort of had a plan, but it was a good one! I was starting to write this sitcom about online dating. Brian and I worked on it a little bit, but I actually started it about half a year before and it had a great plot! It was also really funny. Think ‘Friends’ (but not roommates) with the twist of online dating. I had 7 people who were infinitely different but who’s lives intertwined in the most interesting way. All of them were single (some had previously dated or even been married) and all of them would hang out about once a week to talk about their dating woes. Online dating, of course.

These characters had dimension, real problems and challenges – heartbreak/ache and they were diverse in ethnicity and interests. It wasn’t just fluff and silliness.

I felt that I had a lot of experience in the dating department, and I had some great stories to tell that I could incorporate into my seriously awesome characters. I mean, nearly every single person alive in North America has had ‘some’ experience with online dating. I even signed up my elderly mother several years back! She’s off it now, but there she was on a senior dating site!

My point is: people could relate and there still isn’t anything out there like this. Please don’t steal it, I still may do this. 😉

I had also started two other manuscripts (both very different) and maybe, just maybe, I would have finished them. Now, I am under no delusion that anything would be worthy of publication and I have no idea how to pitch a sitcom, but at least if I finished any of them, it would be an adventure and an accomplishment.

Then there was photography. At that time, I was seriously thinking of taking a proper course. While I would never be a wedding photographer (I have no desire to take pictures of people) I was pretty good at other things. I still am and have recently put more effort into it.

On the other side of the coin – who would I have met? Pete wasn’t looking at that point (at least I don’t think so) so I could have ended up with someone completely different, long-term. I might have even married! I kind of am (common-law) but he has no desire to march down the aisle and share his last name with me. I’m okay with that.

The one constant that I truly believe would not have changed is my current 8-5 job. Regardless of meeting Brian or not, I’d definitely still be working for the organization I’m currently with. I’m doing exactly the same job as I was 6-years ago, just with a much (MUCH) better company for more $$ and nearly zero anxiety. I love my current job but the game plan into retirement would have looked radically different had I missed that opportunity on Match.com with one Mr. B. Caffelle.

The most important change I’d have missed out on is learning to be so much more empathetic and compassionate. It’s not like I wasn’t before, but I wasn’t ‘enough’ – if you know what I mean. When I read about someone dying by suicide, I didn’t even blink. I didn’t care. It had nothing to do with me so why should I give it a second thought? Mental illness? Yeah, so what? Again, at that time – not concerned. If it wasn’t present in my life, I didn’t think about it. I’ve changed that tune, drastically and my typically judgmental self isn’t so judgmental anymore. There is a lot more inner reflection and awareness. It’s ongoing; I’m far from perfect and need to still work on a many aspects of my life.

I also learned to love someone without asking for anything in return. Brian never told me that he loved me (oddly, on his last day on earth, I believe he tried to) or showed it, and he was always apologetic that he couldn’t return my feelings for him as he was convinced his heart still belonged to his ‘ex’ girlfriend. This made things very awkward for me; what does one do in this situation when a) you’re in LOVE and b) the person you’re in love with is planning on killing himself? Had I walked, would it have made things worse or better? I’ll never know. What I did know was that I simply couldn’t leave.

When we (his best friend and former wife and I) waited with him at the hospital to be checked in to the psychiatric assessment unit – he turned to me and, said:

“Well?! How do you like me know?!”

Quietly and shyly, I answered: “I love you.”

In the end, she, the ex-girlfriend – not the ex-wife, (yup it’s as complicated as it sounds) didn’t want anything to do with his heart or any other body part of his for that matter. In fact, after all of his efforts to meet up with her for what he said was to say a proper good-bye (but really secretly try to win her back) she cancelled on him and then sent him a very cold text to leave her alone and never contact her again.

Had she been interested; he’d have dumped my sorry (but cute) ass as quickly as he could have managed it. Probably in an email. And that, would have been that. If she’d still been with him today, he may very well be alive – but his suicide ideation went far beyond this woman so I’m certain that it would have surfaced again, just in another form and for a different reason.

I lost a bit of myself during that short affair and afterwards. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. I used to be romantic in a sweet but authentic way. Don’t misunderstand. I do love the man I’m with, but I didn’t ‘fall in love’ with him. Ever. I just felt one day that I loved him. I somehow bypassed all of the infatuation/honeymoon fun part. And now, 5+ years into a common-law marriage, I can’t even begin to wonder where I’d go looking for it. That part of me seems to be frozen in the year 2015.

I do, however, feel…settled. That’s something I’ve never felt for long. I feel settled in my work, my love life and in my future. It’s peaceful for the most part. You can’t put a price on that.

For what it’s worth, I think had I never met him, I’d still be okay at this tender age of 55. I believe I would have figured my life out, either way. My path would have headed in a new direction, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing – just a different thing.

Still, this trauma I carry with me wouldn’t exist, yet I would never have experienced the bliss of post traumatic growth, either. It’s really quite something to walk out of a raging fire only to find yourself a better human being.

It has been and continues to be a journey.

Next year, I’ll mark year 7. I don’t know if I’ll feel much different but maybe, I’ll be a little lighter in spirit, a little less sad and perhaps I’ll not miss him and all of the possibilities I’ll never know (including all the ones I’d have had if I’d never met him) as much.

I’m curious about the me I would have been, now, if my life had taken a different path without Brian, but it didn’t, and here I am.

Time to continue to move forward with the life I do have – including all of the terrible and beautiful post-suicide trauma that makes me everything that I now am. Each year I let a little more go. I feel a little less devastated and somewhat more grounded.

Time does heal. But not completely; if you look the scars are very much there, yet they start to fade after a while. I am not ‘over it’ but with it. What that means is: I’m choosing to live and move forward alongside this complex grief and trauma. It’s a part of me. It’s remade me into a softer, kinder and more aware, human being.

How Will You Show Up?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 5, 2020

There’s no denying that 2020 has been one hell of a year. If the global pandemic and the US election didn’t give you reason to cringe and wish to move off planet, perhaps the murder hornets, Australian and California

wildfires, plane crashes, wars, earthquakes/floods/explosions/riots/senseless killings (need I go on?) did.

No matter how you look at the last 12-months, it was a hot mess and it’s not getting better any time, soon. We are still stuck in the middle of Global Trauma as the 2nd Wave of COVID-19 rampages across the globe. All in all, it’s not a good time for anyone, especially right before the Holiday Season.

However, help is on the way. There are several vaccines ready to roll out that are 90%+ effective and although it will take time and a massive undertaking like no other to get everyone willing – inoculated, it will get done. It could take most of next year, but it will be done.

2020 has changed us. It’s changed my family and friends and it’s changed me. It’s brought out the best and sometimes the worst in people; laid us bare, stripping us of all facades so that what you see, is now what you get. There is polarization – them and us. I feel, though, that this is temporary as we struggle to get our bearings, find our way through the darkness.

This, I feel, is what 2021 will help bring about. A coming together, a common ground, a rebuilding of values, ethics and wholeness. We’ve got a lot of work to do and there will always be opposers, yet I believe there will be, needs to be, unity so that we can return to thriving and not simply surviving.

So, how will you show up? Which fence are you sitting on, and when will you choose to hop off and join the teams? Team Humanity. Team Humility. Team Empathy. Mankind CAN do better. We MUST do better. 2020 has exposed so many of our flaws, our weaknesses and what a beautiful way to learn. To Grow.

Change starts with you. It starts with me. One by one, we can choose to be a little bit kinder, a little more giving and for-giving. We can be present, be there for one another, be the light.

Listening; I hear you.

Watching; I see you.

Loving; I embrace you.

I choose to show up, to engage, to facilitate – to help and to heal.

Why #BlackLivesmatter Is So Important

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 15, 2020

People. I’m going to try and explain this a little differently because I see there are still many of you out there who don’t get it. You’re taking this personally and you’re reading this message incorrectly. Firstly – unless your Black, it’s NOT About YOU.

Let that sink in a little while.

I’ll say this again, because it’s extremely important that you understand this. If you are NOT Black, this is NOT about YOU. However, that doesn’t mean that you can’t have a positive impact and help make the world a better place for everyone.

I’m going to assume that you’re aware of the oppression of Black people, specifically in the US, that started ohhhhh… in and around the time that someone (a whole lot of white someone’s) decided it was an awesome idea to kidnap people from their country, force them onto ships, bring them to the New World and other places (which they stole from the locals that were already there for thousands of years…don’t get me started on THAT) and enslave them for profit. Let me be clear, these human beings were a commodity. Just like O&G or Steel or Wheat. Here are some fun facts to mull over.

Now. Taking that all into account, let’s break down this whole hashtag and try and understand just what it is. It’s many things, a campaign, an awakening, a revolution, a demand for change, a spotlight on what’s wrong with America (and Canada and the whole world), a massive movement…so many things.

If you think for one minute that people of colour have the same rights as us privileged white people, you couldn’t be more wrong. And we can’t even imagine it because we are treated completely differently. We have more rights, we aren’t targeted by police, we have never been enslaved. We are privileged. I – am privileged.

I’m not going to point you to all of the evidence simply because there is SO much that it’s overwhelming. Even with this Movement in full swing, terrible things continue to happen to Black Americans AND Canadians. Yes. It happens here, too.

Now, pay attention because this is where I’m going to take you on a little journey of perception and perspective.

There are a whole bunch of you who are jumping up and down, waving your arms about at the audacity of all of this because you feel that: All Lives Matter.

Of course, all lives matter. This was NEVER in question. EVER. Where did you get the idea that by focusing on a terrible injustice to others that this somehow undermines you? Who posted that because Black Lives Matter that somehow, other lives don’t?

Nobody did. Anywhere. Not once. Not ever.

You simply came to this conclusion because it wasn’t focused on you. Again. This isn’t about you. It’s about the oppression of black people and change that needs to happen. You can either be part of the solution or the problem. Which one will you choose?

Remember when Greenpeace launched the campaign: Save the Whales? This movement was launched in April of 1975 right in my own neighbourhood from the docks of Vancouver. If some of you were alive in 1975 (I was 9-years old at the time) you’ll know that there was no such thing as: the internet, the home computer, cell phones, social media (you get the point). But, if there was, imagine the impact (or non-impact) of this very worthy cause if a whole bunch of people started jumping up and down, flapping their arms about and started proclaiming: Save the Planet! Save the Elephants and Rhinos! Save the Amazon!! Save the…(insert whateveryouwanthere)!

If that had happened, all the focus on saving endangered whales would have been marginalized, minimized and soon it would be shuffled to the back of the line because the focus of this worthy cause would become ‘unfocused’ and lost in the swarm. Suddenly, Save the Whales would be insignificant.

This is what you do when you proclaim: All Lives Matter. You shove the whole Black Lives Matter Movement to the back of the line and out of sight where it does NOT belong. There is a spotlight on injustice, racism, intolerance, poverty, police brutality… STOP trying to snuff it out.

Shine a light on it, instead and by doing this, you still highlight that LIFE MATTERS. Your life, my life, every soul, every life, every day, every hour and minute…matters.

Don’t you get it? By lifting others up, you also stand tall. By bringing awareness to and doing what you can to change the state of the world so that Black lives shine, Black people have equal rights, you bring to light that (get ready for it) –

We. Are. All. The. Same.

We. Are. All. Connected.

Underneath our skin colour, all of our blood runs red.

We are all Homo Sapiens and change starts with one movement at a time.

Save the whales. Black lives matter. Save the Amazon. Save the rhinoceros.

Pick your cause but don’t take away from, distract or detract – from any one of them. They are all so important.

Black Lives Matter. Period.

The Many Faces of Rape

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 27, 2020

Some of you reading this may become a little uncomfortable. Others may be triggered by previous trauma. Please be careful and take care of yourself as this concerns a very delicate and difficult topic.

Something happened to me a very long time ago. When this ‘something’ happened, I was left feeling very confused. I did not know if I was supposed to be upset or cry…or be angry. I wasn’t even afraid when it was all over although I was pissed off during the episode.

The only feeling I could muster was confusion. What the HELL had just happened?

Up until recently, having this memory bubble to the surface while I do work on myself and learn about trauma (including sexual abuse and rape) in my counselling class – I’d forgotten about it. Afterall, it was more than 30-year ago. Then, when my perpetrator (and ex-husband) contacted me via Facebook completely out of the blue, the memory started to weigh on me like water-filled rubber boots. It was too hard to move forward and past this without talking about it.

I had never told anyone about it. Ever.

It was the late 1980’s. We were both college students and newly engaged. I think I was 20-years old at the time. He would have been 21. I remember we were in the bedroom of my rented apartment on Millstone Ave. It was the 1^st place where I’d lived all by myself. No roommates, no rented room. A whole 1-bedroom place all to me.

We had started kissing – making out, the usual stuff we got up to. But something was different. For some reason, I had changed my mind. I can’t remember why I did or if I just wasn’t into full-on intercourse. Maybe I was tired. I really can’t recall the reason, but I DO know that at some point I said: “No.”

He didn’t take me seriously and thought I was teasing, that this was some sort of game. It wasn’t and I wasn’t, but I couldn’t convince him.

I got up and left the room, slipping away from him easily enough. I thought that this was the end of it, and he’d go home for the evening. He was still living with his parent.

It was not the end of it.

He followed me into the tiny living room or kitchen (I can’t recall exactly where it all started getting ridiculous and weird) and continued to insist on kissing me, trying to take off my clothes. I resisted and again, told him that NO – I wasn’t interested. Once more, he thought this was part of the game I was evidentially playing. I may as well have been having a conversation with the fridge because he wasn’t listening to anything I was saying.

Let it be noted that although I struggled and kept telling him that I wanted him to stop, I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry and I wasn’t hysterical or afraid. I just did NOT want to have sex. It was that simple. I was also angry that my wants and rights were being ignored.

Perhaps he thought this was some kind of kinky role play (although we’d never done that before), perhaps he thought it was all an elaborate game to turn him on. I don’t know because I never asked him.

In the end, in my attempt to get away, I ended up on the floor, scrambling back while he pulled my jeans off, along with his pants, and has his way with me against my wishes. I believe it hurt.

He didn’t hit me or yell. In fact, he was laughing the whole time, which makes me think he was completely clueless as to what he was doing.

What he was doing, was raping me.

Afterward I sat on the floor, feeling that weird surreal confusion, and thought: did I just get raped?!

I really wasn’t sure and in 1986, given that we were a couple and to be married, I very much doubt the law would have thought so. What was the point of saying anything? I really believe he didn’t know what he had just done. He was generally a sweet and gentle guy.

I thought about confronting him about it seeing as he wanted to send some things of mine that he’d held on to (for 30+ years) back to me. I doubt he’d remember the occasion. To him, it was all just fun and play.

Had he (or anyone) tried the same thing, today, it would have gone down much differently. Maybe if I’d shouted or become scared or really mad, he would have stopped. I don’t know.

Today things are very different and thank GOD for that. Rape has no grey areas. Consent MUST be given and NO MEANS NO. It doesn’t mean chase me around the apartment until I trip and fall while you grope me and then force yourself on me. It means FUCKING STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING NOW.

Yes, you can ask someone to stop before and during sex. You have rights. You can change your mind any time you wish as it’s YOUR body and you get to decide what you want to be done to it.

No one else on the planet can do that for you. No. One.

I was young and rape wasn’t talked about. There was no internet; you couldn’t Google sexual consent. It wasn’t exactly taught in schools. I sometimes think I didn’t know any better and should have fought harder. Part of me wants to blame myself, even now, and find excuses for him.

But the harder I look, the less I find. There are no excuses. He should have known better. He should have stopped when I asked him to. He didn’t.

#metoo

SARS CoV-2

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 25, 2020

I’ve been hesitating to pen a blog post on this as there is SO much. So much emotion, fear, worry and so much information and misinformation. Where does one start? How can you tackle thoughts on the worst global pandemic in the last 100+ years?

I’ll start by saying there are many forces at work, here. We have the perceived good, bad and the indifferent but mostly we have massive change. It’s not an easy thing to do – shutting the world down in the blink of an eye, but it’s a necessary one. Our values are being re-written, our needs are being challenged and our beliefs are being tested.

We’re collectively struggling and grieving. When you have that many humans caught up in a global web, all stuck in one spot, you get division. You get those who are struggling to put food on the table and are not getting help so shutting down seems pointless and impossible. You get those who will do whatever it takes to keep themselves and others safe because all life is important, and they’d rather do without and suffer – than risk the lives of so many.

Division isn’t new and it’s always been prevalent, however, we are divided now more than ever and especially in the US where there is no central voice that is attending to all, speaking for ALL and listening to ALL. As a Canadian, it’s difficult to comprehend this and although there is division in my country, it’s muted; for the most part, we stand as one and most of us are doing our part to slow this killer down so that our hospitals do not become overwhelmed. Thus far, it’s working but we have failed our elderly and vulnerable and we’re failing them badly.

My point is, we are all discovering (or more appropriately, big problems that were being brushed under the carpet are having spotlights shone on them – really bright ones) our flawed systems and are being forced to now deal with them. This is good and bad. Good because something is finally being done and bad because it should have been taken care of long ago.

Let’s talk about exposure. COVID-19 is exposing all of us: the way we cope and react, the way we adjust or don’t, and the way we give or take. We are learning different behaviors and it’s hard. It’s like being a kid all over again and figuring out social behaviors. It’s changed and it takes time to adjust when we really have very limited time. How fast a country can turn on a dime is relevant to how that country naturally behaves. Every system is different due to belief systems, patterns and culture.

Yet I will say, Earth has turned a page and its human citizens are more on that ‘same’ page than ever before. So, in a sense, we are more united than we’ve been since…well long before I was born.

I think the really big questions are yet to be answered: what positive changes will we take away from this experience once it’s over, what negative ways will we return to just because we can and we don’t want to give up our perceived luxuries of consumerism? This is yet to be discovered.

Still, I have hope. I have hope that we will emerge a better species, more tolerant, more adaptable, more alert to our environment and the need to protect it. I pray that we will be better focused on healing, caring, alignment of nurturing collective thought patterns and just plan taking care of all (not just us).

We are in a perfect storm and that storm is different for each of us. How we’ll be after the skies clear and sun comes out is up to each of us, as individuals to discover. We’ll be looking at a different world. Some will adapt, some will struggle.

At the end of the day, we still all have choices. Collectively we can choose to change what is important to us. We can collectively choose to work together to make a better planet and better life for everyone.

We are starting to wake up and really know that we don’t ‘need’ many things we’ve always thought that we needed. Or, maybe we can need ‘less’ or need differently. There is always a better way to do things that serve everyone. It’s up to us to figure out what that is. I believe we are at the tipping point to not just think about it but begin to put best practices into place.

For COVID Blog post

You Can Change the World – Here’s How

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 29, 2020

As we get well on our way into 2020, it’s become abundantly clear that many on this Earth are not behaving in the best way that they can. In fact, there seems to be an epidemic of awfulness in the world.

From Global Warming to Powerful Sociopathic Leaders luring the unconscious to new levels of low on to the Hollywood Elite profiting from ridiculous unnecessary products like candles that smell like a vagina. Yes, these previously unheard of, products, actually sold out.

This is what our civilization has come to. Let that sink in a little.

The super-rich will run to the rescue, spend millions, trying to save an historic building but won’t spend a penny of starving children and nearly (thanks to us) extinct animals (they’d rather kill them and stick their heads on their walls).

One has to ask oneself: What is really important? Is our history more important than human lives? Are we okay with eliminating species after species? Is it okay that we don’t want to take responsibility?

Let’s put this into perspective.

We’re killing our planet by polluting it, causing temperatures to rise and the planet is heating up.
Australia is on fire for God’s sake; so far, over 24 million acres have burned to a crisp and it’s only getting worse.
We’re killing off thousands of species of animals; 10,000 and 100,000 species are becoming extinct each year.
We cannot move to the moon or Mars. Let’s just get that silly thought out of the way. We have ONE home and we are destroying it.

I’m going to make this easy. And, it’s really quite simple! You can change the world but changing yourself.

Be a better person. What does that mean? Be kind, be thoughtful. Think of others before yourself.
Be kind to animals. Does becoming a vegetarian not suit you? Then look for a better way. Start by eating less meat and ethically sourced. Yes, it’s more money so that’s where the eating less comes in. You’d be surprised how little meat we actually need (as in none at all) and how many other sources of protein there are.

Stop buying products that kill our planet. This would be anything to do with single-use plastics, palm oil, paper coffee cups…here’s a list. If you can’t stop using them (you can if you just make better choices) then at the very least…reduce them.

Educate yourself. By this I mean really look into things and don’t believe everything you read. Research!
Choices, you have them! Make good ones. Think before you act.
Take a good look at your value system. What’s really important? Is it money? Is it fame? Or…is it happiness and stability? Let me enlighten you about happiness and stability – you don’t get that from money and/or fame. It comes from within.
On that, take a really good look at yourself and your actions. Go DEEP inside and see who you really are. Are you the best you can be? Can you be better?

I could go on and on, but you get the picture; just BE better. Changing the world starts with you and me. It starts small and builds. It’s never too late to change, even if it’s in baby steps. That’s okay. There is no need to judge anyone, no one is better than you and you are not better than any other. You’re just different.

Start with that. Forget about what others are doing and concentrate on YOU and how YOU can impact the world.

Remember, we only have the one. And, you only have this one life as YOU to make that difference. Stop worrying about past lives (if that’s your thing) or thinking; I’ll fix it in the next!

There is no time like the present.

Literally. There is no time. Just the present. This is the only time that exists. So, in this very moment, make the decision to do the right thing for everyone’s greater and higher good.

I believe in you!

Photo by Jaymantri on Pexels.com

Happy New Year

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 31, 2019

As I do every year on New Year’s Eve (you probably do this, too), I think about the last 12-months of my life and contemplate just what went on.

Was it a good year? Did some bad things occur? What good things happened? Was I grateful enough? Did I learn anything? Am I a better person or…a worse one? Do I feel grief for anything? What made me smile and what made me weep?

Oh… So many laughs and way too many tears. We said goodbye to my best fur friend of 17-years and turned around and said hello to a new forever kitten who lit up our lives. We continue to work and cope with mental illness and drug addiction in my family and do our best to forgive. It’s hard work. It’s worthy work. It keeps me up at night and it offers a wealth of learning.

I try and be the best version of myself, but then I slip up and disappoint. I get up again and for a while, I am the best I can be. Then, I fall down, once more and anger gets the better of me.

I think it’s called ‘being human’. We all rise and sink to our occasions.

I think New Year’s resolutions should be kept simple:

Be the best you can.
Love with your whole being.
Forgive, forgive, forgive (include yourself in there).
Be open. Open your heart, your mind and your soul.
LISTEN (shhhh!)
Be happy in the NOW. Now is the only time that actually exists. Always remember that.
Dance. Have fun. Be silly. Laugh. Please, laugh until tears are in your ears!
Remember who you are: A Soul having a Human experience.

Can you do that? Can you be better? Can you do better and make the changes in your life that raise your vibrations and add to the light in the world?

Can you?

I know I will. See you in 2020. xo

On the Edge of Dream

Moving Forward

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 11, 2019

We have a new little addition to our family. He’s not a replacement; Z will always be in my heart and I miss him, every single day. It’s really hard to believe it’s been a whole 45 days since he took his final breath with my hands gently supporting him (he refused to lie down even with the happy drugs) with Pete standing by.

Little Breeze (his name, in honor of Zephyr) is a handful. He also came to us very sick. Although this is typical of rescue cats and kittens, it’s not cool that the rescue organization didn’t make sure he was perfectly well before allowing him to be adopted from where he was kept…in a cage with his brothers and other kittens at a vet animal hospital in Vancouver.

We’re not impressed with either the cat rescue organization (they didn’t bother to check up on us even though they’d asked for 2 references and our vet’s #) or the animal hospital (who told us he was fine, just finish his meds, it’s only a little URI).

Nope! It’s a massive bacterial upper respiratory infection along with a tummy infection AND eye infection. The poor little guy was a mess! We’re talking snot rockets, mucousy eyes and diarrhea.

After God knows how many rounds of meds (and $500+ in vet bills AFTER the $350 it cost to adopt him) he’s getting better. He’s now 4.5 months old, rambunctious as hell and after 4 weeks with us, Sabrina (our Tortie) has finally accepted him. They play, she tries to groom him, he gives her the paw of NOPE then they settle down and sleep side-by-side. They wrestle, play tag and then run to the kitchen for snacks.

It’s adorable. They’re adorable.

His sleeping habits need some refining. It’s not cool to sleep ON my face (and then sneeze snot rockets all over me…my pillow, the sheets – you get the picture). I’m hoping in time that he will start to snuggle with Sabrina – or, she’ll ‘let’ him. She’s not there, yet. But, it’s early days.

I’m hopeful. ❤

This is he.

Morning Breeze B&W

Breeze Purple

Sending your Furever Friend Over the Rainbow Bridge

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 27, 2019

This is a hard post to write but many will relate. Our pets are our family and for those of us without children, our Fur Babies. We love them. They love us and more importantly, unconditionally.

Just over 16-years ago, I was newly separated from my (now ex) husband. I was renting a little house in Calgary. It was Spring. I volunteered at an organization called the Meow Foundation. It was/still is, a cat rescue place; I came in on Saturdays and cleaned.

That place was sterilized from top to bottom, every single day. It was a fair-sized house with many rooms so at any given time there had to be at least 200+ cats and kittens there. That said, it was extremely well-managed and organized. Feral cats had their room, new mothers, kittens and expectant mothers had their area. There was a spot for sick cats, and we had to walk through some sort of antiseptic so there was no cross-contamination.

In the living room, were all the friendly cats who got along with everyone. Down stairs, were several more rooms with new intakes (a few who were injured and had to be kept in cages for their own good) while others roamed around and became acquainted with the place.

When I first started seriously thinking about adopting one for myself, I took a good look around. I spotted him lounging on one of the cat trees, just taking it all in. He seemed to be just coming out of kittenhood and knocking on the door of being an adult male cat. He’d been brought in with his sister; she was waiting for her spay and was in another room. He’d already had his neuter.

Both were wandering around a neighbourhood, seemingly lost or abandoned. They ended up wandering right up to someone’s front door and she took them in. The next day, the kind lady called the Meow Foundation. No one ever claimed them.

They were named Smartie and Skittles because of their sweet nature. Smartie was the male. Both were grey and white with Smartie being a long-haired cat and his sister, not.

I ended up adopting Smartie a few weeks later and renaming him Zephyr. He was the sweetest, most easy-going and definitely the handsomest cat I’d ever had the pleasure of sharing my life with.

I’d never had a cat quite like him and I doubt I ever will again. He had just enough quirks to make him interesting and adorable. He also had the temperament of a Saint. That cat never bit, hissed or scratched me out of anger or fear, in his entire life. You could do anything to him and if it bothered him, he’d either complain about it or leave.

He had his naughty moments, too, but he was just being a cat. One certainly can’t fault him for that. There are simply far too many cute Zephyr stories to list them all, here. But I will say that when he was young, he was a kleptomaniac. He also loved to invent games to play, and we had many. One involved a red bucket and an ex-boyfriend. I still have that red bucket.

He was a lover not a fighter. Whenever his path crossed another animal’s, he’d always try and make friends. Just because I know you’re wondering…he made 2 doggie friends and 0 cat friends, although he did try very hard (Xanadu, you nasty little thing, he was SO in love with you…your loss, honey). I could include Sabrina, but I really think he tolerated her more than anything.

I got to share his life for just over 16-years. He was 17 and had been battling kidney failure for the last 4 of them. On June 1st, he’d had enough. For 2 and a half days I did everything I could to make him better, but he wasn’t having it.

It was his time. So, with a heavy heart, Pete and I sent my best friend home. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, but one that I simply had to. I made him a promise that I’d never let him suffer. He was suffering. It had to stop.

It was quick. Pete and I cried. I then cried some more and every day since then, but it was the right thing to do. There is no question in my heart.

I was Z’s mommy and I’m pretty sure he thought that, too. He listened. He came when he was called. He took up half of my queen-sized bed for more years than I care to admit. He was kind of a big’ish cat. 17 lbs in his prime.

I’ll miss him until I see him again on the other side. I love him dearly. He was one in a million and a huge part of my life. If he didn’t like you (and he liked just about anybody once he got over being shy) you weren’t to be trusted. He had a sense about people. He also never forgot anyone. It could be months or even a year in-between visits, but he’d always remember you.

Zephyr was the best pet I’d ever had; I’d also had him longer than any other animal. 16-years is a long time to have anyone in your life. It’s longer than any man has ever lasted, I’ll say that!

At least…so far.

I love you, big guy; you were the bestest kitty EVER. And that red bucket! How you made us laugh, brought us joy and shone a bright light into everyone’s life you touched.

Really.

Best. Kitty. EVER.

Four Years Later (The Continuing Aftermath of Suicide)

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 11, 2019

I want to say that it’s a little better with each passing year, and it is…but marginally. I still get taken aback by the rush of grief that spills into my daily routine, unannounced and unwelcomed.

The tears still sting and the ache in my heart really isn’t any less. It’s just less often. There are daily reminders of his existence on earth and in my life; I’m grateful for them and accept them with grace. He still is and always will be: the one that got away. Only his ‘away’ was pretty horrific.

I’ve built up my life around softness, empathy and understanding. Yes, I still have a wonderful (forever) man in my life. He’s not going anywhere and for that, I’m so, so, happy. He’s my rock and grounds me to this earth when my spirit wants nothing more than to fly away.

In a month, it will be THAT day. That terrible, horrid, worst-day-of-my-life, day – and, once again, it will all come crashing down around me. It’s okay; I always prepare. The lead-up, however, is easier, this year. I don’t go over old emails and texts from him, still looking for some clue that I should have known this would happen.

Thankfully, I’ve stopped that. It’s pointless, really. A little torturous, too.

I was so inexperienced with his mental illness, so new in our relationship, so in-love and so terrified. I don’t think there was anything different I could have done, given the tools (and lack of) that I had at the time. I simply didn’t know how or what to do – other than to do everything in my power to be there, be present, love him, do what I could to keep him safe and then…have faith that he’d stay.

He didn’t. But we all know our story didn’t end well.

I want to tell it. REALLY tell it; it’s quite a love story, after all. A tragic, messy, funny, sad – love story. I’m almost ready, but not quite.

I still miss him, and I know that we all do – all of us that he touched. There were many. I’m not the only one grieving and I know, out there, there are others. Others like us who understand the depths of suicide grief and it’s never ending dark and deep hole in our lives. It really feels like a part of you died with that person. And as you constantly struggle with trying to understand…

Somewhere.

Somewhere in a gentle and loving stillness, there is forgiveness. Not just for them, but for us. For not being able to save them, for not being there, for being angry, for so many things, I’ve lost count.

Forgive yourself. You, who travel this road of sorrow, with me. You did all you could; they know that. HE knows that. A choice was made that wasn’t ours to make or judge.

My story has carried on, but I can still tell his in the best and most loving way that I can. We can still honour their lives here and in the Afterlife.

I’ve learned SO much and continue to grow with this experience. It will walk with me, until I walk into the light. I’ll always advocate for understanding and to end the stigma, the secrecy and the embarrassment. The finger-pointing, the judgement and the ignorance that comes attached to suicide – both for those who’ve taken their lives and for us who are still on Earth; it has to stop.

Let’s replace them with: Love, Compassion, Understanding, Openness, Communication & Kindness.

Right here. Right now.

In love & Light,

Carrie ~

HOPE

W.E.I.R.D.

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 21, 2019

Are you one of those people whom others call -weird- ? Yeah? I am, too.

I grew up thinking I was weird, and for the 1st 23-years of my life, believed that the OBO’s I had when I was a child (out of body experiences) were nothing more than elaborate dreams that taunted me.

I was fascinated with extraterrestrials (I blame my dad for getting me hooked in Star Trek when I was three) and ghosts. Anything paranormal was interesting and wonderful. Faeries? I believed in them! Magic? Like, real magic (not silly card tricks) was alive and well in my world.

I could catch my mother’s thoughts and would often hear her calling me before she opened her mouth. Once I nearly walked into her as she excited her bedroom as I was walking in to find out what she wanted.

When I was older, I knew things before they’d happen. I think I saw my first psychic when I was in my early 20’s. I thought they were amazing! When they started telling me that I’d do what they do, one day, I couldn’t fathom it. Yet, here I am!

Maybe you didn’t start out being ‘weird’ but had some major trauma in your life that caused a shift. After that, you couldn’t look at the world the same; something was different about you and there was no going back.

Perhaps this trauma was so huge that you felt that you’d lost your way. All your coping mechanisms had run away screaming and you were left feeling empty, alone and frightened. The only constant in your life was change and either you accepted it and moved with it or life became a dark sea of pain.

Let’s hope it’s the former. I’ve been down both roads and change is inevitable albeit not a lot of fun. It’s much easier to jump on that Change Train than fight it. If you’re like me, somewhere in that fog, you started to awaken.

What I mean by that is things became clearer, little by little the lights came back on. Only, this time, they were brighter.

You started to think differently, and suddenly some of the people in your life didn’t fit in, anymore. That’s when new people magically appeared. People who thought like the new and different you. People you could relate to.

Whether you’ve always been a little odd or there was an event that tipped you over, weird is wonderful. Weird is beautiful and to be frank, normal isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. It’s a little dull.

The world is changing. WE are changing and we’re energetically growing and … becoming.

We’re becoming… WEIRD.

Wakeful and present in every moment.

Energetically connected to everything.

Intellectually and spiritually grounded.

Resonating in my greatest and highest good.

Dharma focused in vibrational harmony with my higher self.

Weird is pretty rad, isn’t it?

Elegant woman dancing on water. Sunset and silhouette.

Creating Your Day

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 4, 2019

If you’re like me, the moment you wake up in the morning, you start to think about all the things you have to do for the day. Sometimes, there’s worry. Worry about things that may or may not happen. Often our thoughts are rather negative.

I’ve been doing a little experiment.

Instead of thinking about all the things that could go wrong, I ask one question:

What’s the BEST thing that can happen today?

Then, I get all excited about all sorts of wonderful things that can happen, literally creating my reality with universal energy. It may sound all fluffy and woo-woo…but let me tell you something.

It works.

Not only have things magically appeared but they keep coming in! The key is to come at this from a place of fun and love. Not desperation or fear.

Have FUN with it! Think of it as a fun experiment that can’t fail as you’ve put zero expectation into it, yet you’re open to ALL possibilities.

Go on. Try it and watch the magic happen.

Magic hands

Happy New Year!

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 1, 2019

Happy 2019!

I’ll keep it short because sometimes you don’t need to say much.

A beautiful piece of advice from one very dear to me on the Other Side.

“Fall in love with EVERYTHING.”

I asked why… and he said:

“Because every experience is SO precious; don’t waste them. Fall in love with the grey sky, pain, sorrow…sunlight. Everything. The only reason it’s there is because you’ve asked it to be.”

Thank you, B. xo Morning Gull

A Very Merry Christmas to You

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 25, 2018

Can you believe it? Nearly another year has passed. 2018 will soon, slide into 2019 in a silent hush, and humans will pause in the moment, then brace for another rally with themselves. Aren’t we a funny species? So much fear amid so much love for our very own. I hope I live to see the day when the realization sets in that we are all one; the differences we fight about are pointless and non-valid.

I think this will be the last Christmas for some in my life; notably my nearly 17-year old cat who has been battling renal failure for years. That’s going to be a hard one but a necessary one. No animal should suffer.

I also know that I have friends who are missing dear family members for the first time, this Christmas, and it’s hard to celebrate knowing they’re not on Earth with them. It’s painful and difficult, yet they smile and keep it together for everyone else. My heart goes out to you.

Christmas is a funny thing to me because I’m not religious. That said, I don’t think it’s a bad idea to celebrate with friends and family and GIVE. We need to focus more on those that we love, and we need to focus more on those that need our help.

Maybe everyday should be Christmas.

It’s been an interesting month, health-wise, for me, too. I’ve had sciatica, before, but NEVER this bad. I’ve been in near constant pain for almost a month. Although I’m amused that I’ve grown calluses on my hands from using a walker. Me! At 52, using a walker!! Don’t fret, it’s temporary and I’m so very grateful to my mother-in-law for letting me borrow it. Xo

I’ve had to postpone appointments with my Coaching clients and say no to others who have wanted to book Reiki sessions. I just can’t do it. At least, not at this time. For that, I’m sorry.

I’ve had friends wanting to visit and although they know I’m struggling to get around and get ready for Christmas, they’re offended when I tell them that I just can’t entertain at this point. For that, I’m truly sorry, as well. It’s not that I don’t care about you, it’s just too difficult to give you what I believe you should deserve – which is my very best hospitality and complete undivided attention.

There are times when you just can’t be there for others, as much as you’d like to because you need to be there for yourself. And, that’s okay.

So, let me be here, now. Let me tell you how dear you are to me and how I know you’re struggling, too. Let me tell you that you’re loved and that you matter. You matter to me and to so many others. This year will fade into the next and it’s up to you begin again. You have everything you need to move forward and design your life.

You’ve got this!

I believe in you. Please believe in yourself. Put yourself, first. Love yourself and heal. This time carve out a new path instead of the same one you’ve been tripping on.

Don’t wait for life to change. Be the change.

You’re creating your own experience, moment to moment. Let’s make those moments count!

Be present. Listen to your inner guidance. Take one step at a time. Know it’s okay to fail! Failing is the learning process to success. It’s your guidebook of ‘what not to do’ and how can you even know that if you don’t try and see what works and what doesn’t?

Learn from every Thing and every One.

Your life is yours to live, no one else’s. Your experiences are unique and oh-so-beautiful as they are only yours. Know you can create whatever you want and isn’t that incredible?!

Be the creator of your own destiny but also understand that if situations keep repeating themselves, it’s because you still have something of value to learn from them. Maybe spend some time on figuring that out. All of your questions can be answered from within.

Life is precious, confusing, painful and beautiful – all at the same time.

Be grateful for everything. Even the shitty stuff, in fact, especially the shitty stuff, because those are the lessons most worthy.

Remember I love you and all of you are never far away from my thoughts. You live in my heart, always.

Have a wonderful, beautiful, CRAZY and fun Christmas/Holiday!

~Carrie xox

Zephyr Christmas tie

We Have Become a Culture of Apathy

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 6, 2018

In my day job, we occasionally have events that we host. I know from experience that no matter how many people sign up and ‘commit’ to attending these events, that maybe half will actually show up. The other half that didn’t show up won’t call or email, they’ll just be a ‘no show’. This is now normal, and people expect it.

We also take our time in returning calls, answering emails or texts. In fact, sometimes people don’t bother answering at all. Again, this seems to be expected if not widely acceptable. There are all sorts of excuses offered: I forgot. I really thought I already emailed you. I was too busy. I was going to get to you when I had time. Et Cetera.

I remember when I was a kid, I’d never think to not show up to something that I’d committed to or never return a phone call to someone who has left me a message specifically asking me to call them back. So, what has changed? Why do we think it’s okay to not care or bother? Are we too busy? Or, have we just become so self-important that others no longer matter, and good manners are a distant, fleeting memory

These are good questions and ones that lend pause to our everyday lives. I remember when all this technology (aka computers, the internet and cell phones) were supposed to make our lives easier, give us more free time and allow humans more freedom to do other things (like return phone calls or show up to things they’ve committed to). As we know, this didn’t really pan out.

I find myself inundated, daily and even hourly with things like: emails/texts/Facebook/LinkedIn/Instagram/insert-whatever-social-media app here. It’s endless! Would we be more responsive if we simply unplugged? I don’t know, I still return calls and show up when I say I’m going to and I LIVE online. Well, at least it seems that way.

So, what is it? Why do we behave thusly if we can’t blame our addictions to technology?

I believe we’ve simply tuned out and prioritized differently. We tune out to things that don’t give us instant gratification, a ‘like’ on Facebook or a ‘follow’ on Instagram. We are a society of apathetic children and adults all waiting for the next electronic stimulation instead of looking for that high in normal, daily life.

Maybe it’s not as fun calling your mom back as it is logging in to see what your 2000+ friends have posted about their fabulous lives on a daily/hourly basis. Perhaps it’s not as gratifying as emailing back that friend-in-need as it is reading what your favourite celebrity has just tweeted.

But think about it. Just think. For one minute…ask yourself what’s really REAL and who is going to be there for you when the chips are down? Is it that friend of a friend of a friend (whom you’ve never met) who just posted the latest meal they’ve had or that famous person who got into a feather-slapping argument on Twitter?

No. It’s your mom whom you forgot to call – telling yourself that you just didn’t have enough time and you’ll get to it when you can. Maybe.

It’s your friend-in-need whom you ignored because it was too much work, you didn’t want the drama, etc. That’s who you’ll reach out to.

The question is, will they be available for you?

Taking Back Your Power

Posted by fragmentedpoet on September 23, 2018

Recently, someone close to me lost their job for the 2nd time in just under a year and a half. As you can imagine, this is devastating, and he feels like he is a complete failure; his self-worth stock suddenly took a nose dive and there he was, just another worthless piece of garbage tossed to the side of the curb. All of the hard work he’d put in, 60+ hour weeks, not taking vacation and doing everything that he could to be all that was asked of him, now meant nothing.

To make matters worse, he didn’t see it coming. The circumstances didn’t make sense. Just a few months, prior, he’d had his one-year review, and all was well, in fact, he got a nice raise! There were no indicators that something had gone awry. It was shocking, and the reasons given didn’t add up.

This is just one example of having our power taken away.

When we are let go from our jobs, whatever the reason, there is a deflation of positive energy and an inflation of negative energy such as anxiety; you’ve just been tossed into a black hole of: WTF just happened?! Suddenly our livelihood is in jeopardy, our sense of self and worthiness is now in question. Worse, we often feel we’ve let those that depend on us, down.

Negative emotions will surround someone who’s power is yanked from them, no matter what the circumstance. In this case, this person was powerLESS to do anything about it. There are huge waves of grief, anger, confusion that they’re riding on. There is depression, sadness, (there is a difference) guilt and denial. All of these are completely normal.

At some point, there will eventually be acceptance and ultimately surrender. The damage is done but soon, the healing will begin.

When someone or a circumstance takes your power, the most important thing to remember is: You can and will get it back. The fastest way to do this is to stop denying all of the uncomfortable emotions that bubble up and first, acknowledge them, and then work with and through them.

Denial gets you nowhere. Shoving your pain away is like trying to constantly keep a massive beachball, underwater. The damn thing keeps popping up and smacking you in the face and the farther you push the ball under, the more energy it creates so that when it pops up, it has a greater force and intensity. As well, there are usually several beachballs at once, each a different colour with a different emotion attached to it.

When this happens, stop shoving them down, pick one up and look at it. What do you see? Is it guilt? Let’s work through that. Remember you’re not alone, you’ve got people who care about you and will listen. You’ll need to express yourself, talk about why you’re feeling guilty. Reach out to your partner or friend, family or clergy – whomever you can. If you’re feeling there is no one, there are numbers you can call to talk to someone at no charge. There is no judgment. Here is a number you can text or call 24/7 1-877-870-4673.

The same is true for all of the beachballs/emotions. You’ll be angry, so BE ANGRY!! You have every right to be! BE sad, it’s good to cry and cleanse. Take responsibility for what you did or didn’t do but don’t accept blame for something that had nothing to do with you.

BE. Be kind to yourself, take it gently through the first few days. You can and will get back up on that horse. Little by little, you’ll feel you’re back in the driver’s seat. Take action and take stalk of everything that you DO have. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. It doesn’t make you weak; it makes you human – just like the rest of us.

Many will tell you that the “why’s” don’t matter and you should just let it go. I disagree. When you’ve gotten your power back and feel you’re ready to move on, you’ll realize that the outcome would have been the same, no matter what. But, in the moment, when it’s fresh, you’ll want to understand what happened and I’m going to say most of the time, the situation won’t make sense.

Knowing what went wrong will bring you a little peace. However, I caution you; you may never fully know. You’ll want to hash it out, ad nauseam, and that’s okay. Remember, express yourself. Talk about it, write about it, get it out and into the open so it’s not stuck, inside, and all bottled up. You’re liable to burst like a soda pop on an automatic paint mixer, if you don’t let yourself vent and explore the situation from every angle.

Once you’ve reasoned things out and realize you’re not such a terrible person (assuming you actually didn’t do something terrible) you’ll feel better, increasing your energy and voila, you’re starting to get back into your own Power.

When someone or a situation takes you out of your power, it can feel like you’ve lost part of yourself. Know it’s not forever and it takes a little time and self-care to get it back.

Strong and powerful as super hero . Mixed media

Taking Care

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 11, 2018

It’s been a while since I’ve had the energy to write a blog post and I thought the reasons why (anxiety/stress/fear/grief) would be a good topic, and how we need to look after ourselves during difficult times.

Maybe you’re one of those people; you know, that person whom everyone else relies upon. The Dependable One. Is this sounding familiar? You are that individual that people turn to when times are tough. Maybe someone has lost a family member, or your neighbour was in an accident and they need your help. Perhaps you have a good friend whose life is full of frustration, and they need someone to really hear and see them. That someone just happens to be YOU.

The thing is, you’re probably going through your own stuff. Maybe you have people in your life that you care about that have addictions. Perhaps there’s an ill family member or your job is dragging you down. It could be a number of issues and situations that cause feelings such as anxiety/stress/fear/grief, or even, anger/depression/hopelessness. All you need to do is pick one.

Thus, along with being there for everyone else, you are dealing with your own shit, too.

This can be difficult because you may not be the kind of person who feels comfortable reaching out for help, for yourself. You may not post about all of your ‘stuff’ on social media. In fact, you could be really quiet about what’s going on in your own life, only sharing with a select few…so not many really know that you’re suffering, too.

During these times, self-care is imperative. Let’s call it emotional health rather than mental health. I don’t really like the term coined by science: mental health as opposed to physical health, because it implies that our brain is separate from our physical bodies. It is not. However, our emotions/feelings are intangible results of situations and, ultimately, our experiences.

We could get into quite the lengthy debate over whether our experiences are stored in our brain, our heart, or our soul. I think all are true. That said, we can’t exactly examine an emotion, touch it, feel it, measure it, in the same we can a physical body part. It’s an invisible energy/force that has a ripple-effect on everything.

So, let’s get to the meat and potatoes of my point. During stressful times where there are elements beyond your control that cause upset, one needs to slow it down and take a little care of both our physical body and emotional wellbeing.

Yet, so few take the time to do this. We’re all caught up in a race to some finish line (possibly death) and not many make time to simply BE STILL and allow emotions to settle down, so we can better serve ourselves. If we can’t serve ourselves, we certainly can’t serve others.

How many times have you heard this phrase uttered by breathless, stressed-out and angry people when told to slow down: “I’ll slow down/sleep when I’m dead!”

People, I have news for you; life doesn’t end when your body is dead and there is no slowing down or sleeping in the Afterlife. But, that’s another blog post so let’s carry on with the presenting theme of this one.

Are you still with me?

Make. Time. For. Your. Self. That is all that is required. Whether it’s meditation, physical exercise, reading a good book or simply going for a walk, in nature – all of it will help you cope.

Take care of your feelings. Let’s dig a little deeper into that sentence.

Caring for your feelings. This would indicate that you have to acknowledge that you’re having some that are causing you problems, in the first place. Then, you have to figure out which one/s they are, and finally why/what is the underlying cause AND (last but not least), care about them.

Drilling down and taking a deep dive into ourselves can be a bit foreboding but once you’ve identified what’s happening, you can move forward with a plan to create a better environment for you to heal and, ultimately, feel better.

Does that make sense?

There are tons of posts about self-care, out there, and I don’t want to get into self-indulgence because this isn’t what I’m writing about. More to the point, I’m writing about holding space for yourself before you hold space for someone else. If we’re not at our best with our own body and spirit, we can’t be our best for someone else’s.

It’s okay to say: No.

Saying no doesn’t make you a bad person. It’s simply respecting your own space and creating boundaries. There will be times when you’re overloaded while dealing with your own personal life, that you simply can’t deal with another’s. That’s okay. No one will blame you and if they do, that’s their issue. Let them go; you don’t want these types of people in your life, anyway. They’re draining, and they’ll suck the life out of you.

Creating boundaries doesn’t make you selfish. You’re not a narcissist if you’re giving yourself some consideration, once in a while, instead of always putting everyone else, first.

It doesn’t mean you have to give a play-by-play on Facebook about how/what you’re doing for your self-care. In fact, during this time, I recommend that you stay away from things like Social Media, entirely. There’s a lot of BS on there that we can get all caught up in and let me tell you: things are not always what they seem.

So, what are you going to do to take care of your emotional health? When are you going to start putting up a few boundaries and say no, once in a while, to allow yourself to move through your own stuff?

At what point will you discover you’ve got so little energy that it’s time to S L O W down and make room for some healing?

I’d say the time is now. In this very moment. Just do it. Start the process and watch yourself become a better, healthier/stronger, you.

You can do it. I believe in YOU. xo Anxiety concept word cloud background

Succeeding Through Failure

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 4, 2018

Think of the last time you failed at something. I’m going to bet you can recall it in great detail. In fact, I know you play the entire scenario in your mind, over and over; a mini movie that you pause at certain intervals to capture and digest all of the littlest details.

We analyse our failures with incredible precision to see how/why we didn’t make better choices. We do a lot of: If onlys and what ifs.

If only I didn’t do that, this other thing wouldn’t have happened.
If only I did do that thing, the event/relationship/solution/insert-anything-here, would have gone better.
What if I had been there/what if I hadn’t shown up…that thing wouldn’t have gone as badly.

What if, instead of looking at past events as failures, we decided to view the offending incident as a valuable opportunity to grow and move into a different life direction, one that serves us better? How about taking on a broader scope of understanding and exiting with the experience as something that brought you to a higher place thus realizing that your failure was actually a planned success.

Let’s take a deeper dive into that: planned success. Every big experience that changes us in some way is actually designed to help us succeed. What we see as failures is really a path of events to show us we have alternatives and that we can act on them if we so choose to do so.

Have you ever found yourself repeating the same mistake over and over? Maybe you’re drawn to a certain personality type in your love life and the relationship always ends up in a big disaster. From the inside you can perceive yourself as always failing. From the outside, there is a much bigger message. And that is: this personality type has lessons for you and until you learn them, you will be repeating the same sequence throughout your life.

Your repetitious theme could be something as simple as self-respect or restraint. Only you will recognize the pattern that you’ve created. Maybe your mother was controlling so you have always dated controlling women. Can you see where I’m going with this?

Once we can recognize the pattern, we can break it. Once it’s broken, we can heal and move forward. This is success. If you can take away something of value from your past failures, this is success. If you can learn and grow; move a painful incident into greater awareness – then you’ve succeeded.

Instill your success in everything, even if you think you’ve failed. You haven’t; you’re just learning how not to do something or learned that you can do it better or differently to yield more favourable results.

There is always a better/different path waiting for you if you choose to take it. Don’t be afraid to mess things up because through this you’ll reveal your greatest triumphs.

Motivational and inspirational life quotes - Failure is success in progress.jpg Blurry background (1)

Deathiversaries

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 11, 2018

It’s odd how we count the days/months and then years after someone passes over to the other side. I think the passage of time leaves little tick marks that dig deep into our hearts to remind us that although it still hurts like hell…we’re still here.

Life on earth goes on without them.

We endure the absence of these loved ones in our daily live and if you’re like me, their presence is never far away. Even as the years pass by, our missed people still linger in our thoughts and dance in and out of memories like sun beams across the floor.

It’s year three since Brian left us and as much as I’d like to say it hurts less, it simply doesn’t. It does, however, grow into a smoother transition and although I had my share of tears, I smiled, as well.

I sat in the morning sun with my favourite tarot cards and asked him, out loud, if he’d guide me to pull out the card that I wanted. This would prove to me that he was really there. I was emotional and didn’t trust (as usual). It took a few tries between salty tears to hear him properly and after dropping the deck a few time, I was successful.

Finally, I stayed still long enough, and calmed my heart, to hear his voice.

“Use your right hand,” he gently said. “That’s it…take a deep breath and carefully choose with your heart. Take your time; I’m here.”

(He’s ridiculously patient with me.)

I slid out one card with eyes shut tight. Flipping it over, I smiled while launching a fresh volley of rain from my half-lidded eyes.

The Love Card.

It’s the one I always wish for when I feel him near. If I try too hard, I fail. This time, I didn’t and showered him with my gratitude. It was a wonderful start to a sad day.

I miss him, still.

Money and Happiness Are Not Synonymous

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 4, 2018

When we picture money in our lives (especially a windfall) we feel all giddy about what we can get for ourselves, what adventures we can afford and all of the potential GOOD we can do with it.

So it stands to reason that having money = happiness, right?

No. In fact, although money is an essential means of existence and to ‘not’ have it can and does cause unhappiness…it’s not money in itself that creates happiness or negates it.

Let’s be clear. Money is nothing but a medium of ‘exchange’ …and most of it isn’t even tangible, anymore, it’s digital. So we have a digital form of energy that is a medium of exchange for goods and services.

Think about it. What’s the history of money, anyway? While no one is completely certain, we do know that around 5000 BC, people were exchanging pieces of metal for goods and services. At around 700 BC, the Lydians (an Iron Age kingdom of western Asia Minor) were using coins.

Before that, we bartered and traded: you give me 10 apples and I’ll give you 2 bags of rice. If I didn’t need the apples but wanted meat, instead, I took those apples to someone who was ‘selling’ meat and traded the apples for some of that.

So, were we all unhappy prior to using money?? NO! Of course not.

That said, our planet, today, is completely obsessed with it. That is because most believe that money also = power. To some degree, it does…but that would really depend on how you measure power and what it means to you.

Are you powerful if you are in control of your own life and are able to manifest your own happiness without the aid of anyone but yourself? Are you powerful if you allow yourself to do what you LOVE and be who you really are rather than conform?

Or, are you powerful because you have a lot of money?

These are great questions and I don’t think I can address them in just one blog post!

That said, we all have our own truth and if you believe that you can’t be powerful without money, I tell you to look at people such as: Gandi, Mother Theresa and the Dalai Lama.

“But!” you yell… “Look at all those rich and powerful people …!” as you go along to list a bunch of people WITH money AND power and suggest that this is truly the magical formula.

Yet…are they happy people? I could argue that and I suspect some of them truly are. It doesn’t mean that they are happy because they have lots of money.

Was Gandi happy? I’m going to say that he was.

The thing is – money is not happiness and happiness is not money. They can be found together or apart – kinda like chocolate and peanut butter; some find them delicious together while others (maybe you’re allergic to peanuts) find it devastating.

So there you go. You CAN be happy with or without money. It’s not a necessary ingredient as happiness is really an individual and exclusive thing and it is not a byproduct of having ‘stuff’ or having certain people in your life. I know people who have taken their lives because they didn’t have that one person with them, anymore, but when I asked if they were ‘happy’ when this person was with them….they said ‘no’, ultimately not.

You and only you are responsible for your happiness and no amount of cash, beautiful people or other outside influences will create happiness within YOU.

They can be influential and they can contribute but ultimately it’s up to your own conscious being to decide whether or not you will be or are, ultimately, happy.

Becoming

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 7, 2018

Over the past decade or so (probably a bit longer) I’ve been obsessed with personal growth. I decided long ago that I wanted to be the best possible ‘me’ that I could during my stint on Earth.

I do believe that you can reinvent yourself every new day and every moment, you can choose whom you want to be. Before you think I’m standing on a soapbox, pointing to my halo – I’m very, very far from Sainthood.

That said, if we are conscious of who we are and who we want to become, we can work towards becoming better. That being: kinder, gentler, more humane and understanding, giving, loving and forgiving.

You get the point.

For the first time in many years, I’m feeling very secure in my life; I have a loving partner, two adorable pets, lots of friends, a lovely home and a pretty secure job. Yet…I look at all of that and ask: what does it mean? Does this automatically equal happiness? What IS happiness and does having all-of-the-above guarantee it?

Absolutely not.

Whenever I express to my Guides that I want to heal people they retort: Heal yourself, first. When I say I want to be helpful to society, I get: help yourself, first.

It is, as always, good advice. If you can’t make yourself better, the one person you know best….how can you help anyone else?

They make a good point.

So that’s what I do. I do the work on myself, first. And I keep on doing it because there is always room for improvement.

I’m working on being the best me that I can be. I’m be-coming; coming into my human being with all of my soul self and it’s a lifetime process.

But while I’m healing and helping myself, I can certainly help others. It’s recognizing that we are always a work in progress, forgiving ourselves for our past mistakes, missed opportunities and those other things we’re so-not-proud-of.

So, how are you healing yourself? How are you working on becoming who you were meant to be and how can I help you with that?

carrie@thehealingcorner.ca www.thehealingcorner.ca blog post

‘Tis the Season

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 14, 2017

Every December, I marvel at how on earth it got to be ‘December’ so quickly. Suddenly Christmas is sneaking up on us and then, another New Year. As busy adults, the years fly by at a reckless pace.

At least, it seems that way. We prioritize, summarize, organize and generalize. It can be the same story every year at this time but does it have to be? It used to be for me; I’d race through December tripping over myself and come barreling through into the next year; ready or not, there I’d go!

This year is different. I’m giving myself space and permission to just be in the moment and doing whatever I can to incorporate healing from within, during this busy time. I’m thinking a lot about my worries: an elderly mother with cancer, a sibling with addictions and unemployment, and of course, remembering Brian (he’d have turned 49 on Dec. 23^rd…the same age I was when we met). I’m giving extra care to my current partner and we’ve not only solidified our relationship by purchasing a home, together, but we’ve brought a new pet into our lives.

Where there were three, now there are four. We feel more complete.

This year feels different and slower than usual. In fact, it feels more normal, as in, this is how it should be, not some race to an imaginary finish line.

I remember when I was a kid and had such mixed emotions about Christmas. I’d be excited about presents and family gatherings at my Grandparents home, around the corner from where we lived. Then I’d be worried sick that my father would get drunk and Mr. Hide would show up, turning an otherwise fun event into something dark, angry, embarrassing and sad.

Now, Christmas is about sharing, giving, expressing, feeling and letting go. It’s friends and family, being kind to strangers and remembering to listen to our hearts rather than race around inside our heads.

Let’s take a moment and remember who we are and why we’re here. Before this year is over, let’s be grateful for everything – good and bad, blissful and painful. Remember, you’ve learned from everything.

I ask this of you: for the next two weeks live in your heart and higher self. Be generous, warm and kind. We all live many lives but we only have ONE experience of THIS life.

Make it a good one.

A beautiful Holiday Season to all. Let 2018 in with love, grace and joy.

Christmas Blog post

Labels

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 1, 2017

There’s been a lot of writing, lately about calling ourselves this and that – of lives that matter, the privilege of being White and of course, racism. While all of these are real and human and sometimes ugly, I’d like to look at things a little differently. I’d like for us to remember who we really are.

Who/what – we really are, past our human Ego, past our human bodies and beyond this 3D seemingly solid world we live on.

Let’s take a step back.

We’re not gay or straight or black or white or brown or red. We’re bodies and we all have one. We’re not bi or male, transgender or female, we’re human beings. We were all made in the same way.

We’re not Christian or Muslim. We’re not American or Chinese, Italian or Australian. We’re Earthlings. This is the place we call home, the ONLY place these bodies come from.

Let’s take a step back.

We are souls. We are choosing to have a human experience. We’re here to learn and grow, about everything. Every. Thing.

We are not individuals; there is no US or THEM. We are connected to each and every single life form and then we’re connected to this planet, and of course, each other. We are all part of this little world and if we kill it, our bodies die with it. Why would we cut off our own legs in spite of our arms ? Because, this is what we are doing.

Let’s take a step back.

We are energy. We are all part a Universe and beyond, that, which is all made up of nothing but Energy. Some call this Source. Many call it GOD.

Let’s take a step back.

You are me and I am you. We are all one thing; we are all ONE. Why are you despising YOU? Why are we pointing fingers that, in actuality, are at ourselves? Think about that. Really, THINK. We’re all ONE, take your ears and eyes and beliefs away and what do you have? We have humanity, we have a consciousness, we have an energy being that’s part of all the other energy that’s around us. Part. Of. Not separate.

Let’s take a step back and shed the labels of you’re this and I’m that. Let’s go beyond a body, a faith, a sex, a country, a colour, a belief and this world. Let us see ourselves; see YOURself …for the first time.

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Working Through Anxiety

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 3, 2017

I have it and always have. I remember getting migraines as a child brought on by anxiety when my parents were screaming at each other nearly every weekend. I’d complain that my head hurt (it really did) and was taken to the eye doctor, the regular doctor and various specialists. I had all sorts of tests done and in the end my parents were told that I ‘just wanted attention’ and was making it all up.

This was the 1970’s; no one thought to look into the social dynamics of my dysfunctional family and ask questions and if they had I wouldn’t have said a word, anyway, for fear of being beaten within an inch of my life. One of my father’s favourite threats was: “I’m gonna knock your teeth out!” English not being his first language, it came out: “teet” rather than “teeth”. I’ve never forgotten that and he’s been dead 28-years.

That was my childhood. As I got older, anxiety lead to panic attacks but surprisingly not until I was an adult. I didn’t have them often but when I did, it was full blown I-think-I’m-having-a-heart-attack episodes. If you’ve ever experienced a panic attack, you’ll know what I mean: difficulty breathing and catching your breath, pain in your chest, shaking, sweating and feelings of utter chaos. Your heart races and your mind keeps up; they end up doing endless 100-meter laps with your thoughts in tow until you’re able to release it and start to calm down.

It doesn’t last forever, but when you’re in the thick of it, it seems you’re either going to pass out, whither and die on the spot, or explode.

Although it’s been a few years since I had a heart-racing panic-attack (the last time was when Brian took his life) I’ve had other anxiety-related issues: lack of sleep, terrible dreams, worry to the point of being ridiculous and being very irritable.

So what’s the magic formula? How does one cope with the escalating madness in the world – both in your own and on the outside where you have little to no control? How do you handle stress from work, family – demands upon your time, illnesses, finances and then contend with our Southern neighbours worst mass murder in their history?

If you’re sensitive like me, and are prone to anxiousness, it’s no easy feat.

You may find that people around you tell you to: calm down/get over it/take it easy/relax etc. None of these help, by the way, but there are a few things you can do for yourself.

Breathe. Concentrating on just breathing keeps you grounded in the moment and helps calm you in the gentlest way.
Take a walk in nature. The energy of plants and water is incredibly calming and healing. Make sure you are by yourself and with no distractions and simply ‘be’ with the beauty. The forests, oceans, fields, rivers and lakes have amazing healing energy. You’ll understand better when you immerse yourself in it.
Pets and animals. If you have a pet or two, spend some time with Fluffy. Animals are very psychic and pick up on our emotions. You may have noticed that when you’re feeling down or anxious, the family pet seems to gravitate towards you with extra cuddles and affection. This isn’t a coincidence. Their energy will always help make you feel better. There’s a reason why trained animals are used as helpers. There are psychiatric service dogs, comfort pets and companion animals. All make a huge difference.

Lastly, there is professional help. Counsellors, Coaches, Psychologists and Psychiatrists are trained to help you maneuver through your anxiety with a variety of tools.

Take care of yourself and be gentle. You matter and there are people out there who ‘get it’ and understand what you’re feeling.

Young woman suffering from a severe depression/anxiety (color to

Cancer

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 29, 2017

Today I learned that my mother has it. And it’s not the first time she was told she had breast cancer, but the previous time…her doctor spoke out of turn before he had the results back. He was wrong. Then, she was fine.

It was about 14-years ago and I remember panicking. I turned down a job, packed up all my stuff in another Province, left my boyfriend and came back to British Columbia, tout de suite. But this time… this time, it’s real.

I’ve had one parent leave this world because of it, already, and I’ve had my best friend beat it in the bravest and humblest of ways.

Mom’s prognosis is really good which I’m eternally grateful for but there’s that conniving little voice whispering in my ear: “Yeah, but…she is 81, Carrie, and it’s spread to some of her lymph nodes; if I were you, I’d be very worried. I think you should let this flood your brain with ‘what if’s’, panic (at least a little) and make sure you get even less sleep than you do because that’s the right thing to do. If you don’t, you’re a bad child.”

Yup, that little voice is an asshole, for sure.

Part of me wants to give in but a larger part of me says: No. It will be what it will be and as it should be. It’s not my call and all the worrying panicking and lost sleep in the world isn’t going to change the outcome.

So I’ll let her be strong (she likes to call herself a Pit Bull with lipstick). I’ll let her lead the way in how she wants to be treated and helped. I’ll probably call more and such but I’m not going to treat her as if she’s going to drop dead, tomorrow; she’d be super angry if I did. I’ll say it again: Pit Bull wearing pink choral-shaded lipstick. She never sets foot outside without it. Seriously, you do not want to piss this woman off.

If I were my own Coach, I’d ask myself how I’m feeling about all of this. I’d ask how I planned to move through my days with this new information and I’d ask how I was going to take care of myself so that I can make sure I’m there for her 1000%.

It’s an interesting place to be – holding space for myself and flip-flopping back and forth until something makes sense and I balance myself out.

Despite all of my spirituality and coaching ability, we are only human, after all. I’ve long ago prepared myself for her eventual move into the afterlife – we all will get there, but it’s not wanting anyone to suffer if this is what turns out to be her exit plan. My father suffered a LOT. I don’t wish that on anyone.

That said, all could be well and she could carry on being the tough old lady she is for many years to come.

It’s not for me to know at this point.

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The Letter

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 7, 2017

A while ago, I took a little writing course. One of the exercises I had to do was write a letter to myself (from my future self), one that I’d read, back in time. Of course, I had to choose the most difficult day of my entire life to send this letter to: the day after Brian took his life.

I found this exercise most powerful and healing. I will incorporate this into my Coaching sessions as I think it’s valuable to people.

Feel free to give it a try.

May 11, 2017

Hello me,

It’s me…

You’re reading this the day after that really bad thing happened (May 12, 2015). That’s what we (as in- you and I) ended up calling it. Sometimes we simply can’t bear to speak it out loud. It’s been two years. In fact, today is the 2nd anniversary of his death.

I know you’re in shock. I know this is the very worst thing that has every happened in your life. We both know there have been a lot of very bad things – this one tops all of them. I believe with all my heart we will never have to deal with anything this terrible, ever again. That’s a good thing because I don’t think you/we could survive it.

Right this moment, you’re torn apart and your heart just went through a rusty shredder. It’s been hurled all over the place, bits and pieces of bleeding muscle and everything is soaked in your tears. The very sky is dripping with sadness in spite of it’s perfect spring-blue. The cherry trees are still blooming and a warm west wind blows in to ripple the Pacific, but all you see is black.

I want to explain a few things to you so that eventually, you can take back something that you had so strongly before this happened: Hope.

Our love for him was enormous, vividly deep and hope was our wings; we defied everything. We felt it would carry us and him through those dark and inky days. We were wrong about that because it was never our choice. It was always his.

I need you to know that hope lives on and that this pain will ebb back into that depthless sea from which it came. Like a shadow moving through the light, it will take on many forms, grow, recede and finally it will only follow you around, a ghost, catching your attention, now and then, instead of staring you right in the face as it’s doing now – screaming that this CAN’T be true, there MUST be some sort of mistake because Brian CAN NOT be dead.

You’ll eventually come to terms with this and please know that he is here, always with you, always sending you signs and he hasn’t stopped. He won’t unless you ask him to.

I want you to understand that we made it through the fire. Oh yes, we walked right on through the centre of agony and didn’t stop. We just kept on moving forward even though it was excruciating and when we emerged, black and scorched, we turned back to look but the fire was gone. We’d used it all up, consumed it in our grief. There was nothing left but our smoking footprints to show us where we’d been.

We’d made it.

YOU, will make it. You HAVE made it and even though there are moments when you are raw again, broken apart and the tears flow like muddy rivers…you never let go of that hope. It carries you, it cradles you and now it leads you to where you’ve always needed to be.

So, cry and sob and be angry. Scream, weep softly and know you loved like you’ve never loved in your life. Remember him. Speak his name, often. He’s around and you can feel him in the stillness of the morning, just before the birdsong, moments before the first rays of dawn and seconds after the darkest part of the night.

Hello me…it’s me. Today is the first day that he’s gone – really gone… you feel as if you, too, may leave this world from your torn apart heart. You won’t. You’re still here, better than ever. Hope, your love, his love, all that brought you here and all those days yet to be born, are waiting just for you.

So…what would you say to your past self if you could send a letter from the future?

Moving in the Right Direction

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 19, 2017

So, I’ve decided to add to my education and take a counselling course that is offered by the same College as where I did my Life Coaching. It would allow me to get a diploma in Life Coaching – adding to the certificate that I already have.

Also, just as a dentist needs to see another dentist (every 6 months or so…) so does a Medium need to seek out other Mediums. It’s always good to get another’s perspective on things that our Ego can get in the way of. I have one that’s fantastic and we’re good friends, too.

It was suggested that I merge my Life Coaching with my Intuitive practice rather than offer them separately so…

Voila!

I’m going to do just that but I’m deciding on the packaging and packages that make the most sense to someone that would like to engage with a Life Coach and receive intuitive counselling at the same time.

Thoughts? I’m all ears (and eyeballs).

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Trust

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 7, 2017

Trust is an interesting word, don’t you think? You can have this firm belief in the reliability of someone or something – but where does it come from? Are we naturally born with this ability or do we develop it as we grow?

Some give it away freely and expect nothing in return; an act of good faith. To them it’s nothing to have an open-heart and believe that everyone and in every circumstance around them will act accordingly.

Others believe it needs to be earned; you need to be willing to prove yourself before you can be found worthy of such a thing. I’ll give you this trust thing but first you must convince me, in some way, that I won’t regret it.

One of the things I learned to do (as trust didn’t come naturally to me) was to offer up this trust to any new relationship. If the topic came up, I would say something like:

“I offer you one cup of trust and one cup of respect. It’s up to you what you do with it. If you keep those two cups filled, that’s great…but if you empty them out – either a little at time or all at once, it’s up to YOU to replace it.”

I always thought that was pretty fair, right? Yet, is it? After all, if they prove untrustworthy, isn’t it up to me to walk away or decide to live with how that affects me? If someone has done something to lose my trust – that’s my issue as I’m the one who ultimately decided to trust in the first place. That doesn’t mean that they’re off the hook, it just means that I can choose not to trust them any longer or even walk away entirely. They don’t have to do anything – unless it bothers them that they are not trusted. In that case, they can choose to take action by either convincing me that they will be trustworthy the next time by doing something (an action) that would make me change my mind – thus ‘earning’ my trust once again.

I truly believe by nature we are trusting entities; do we even have a choice? As infants, we are at the mercy of our caregivers as we come into the world completely vulnerable and unable to take care of ourselves. Then…somewhere along the way, something happens and we lost trust or faith in how we think life should unfold or people should behave. How does one warm up to trusting after trust has been broken?

What would you do if someone lost your trust and are you someone who offers trust openly?

Building up trust concept: Black alphabetic letters forming the

Why Aren’t We Teaching Children How to Manager Their Minds?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 18, 2017

I’m taking an online introductory course in Counselling and I’m currently reading a book called: The Skilled Helper. It’s interesting. I’ve barely started and already I’ve noticed that there is something very important and fundamentally missing in our Western system: we do not teach our young how to manage their mental health. At least, not on a large scale.

We show them how to take care of their bodies through eating well and exercising. We teach them to read, write and problem solve with equations. Sometimes we send them to Church and teach them about religion and morals, but….what about how to handle a crisis? How about teaching our kids about how their emotions work and that it’s okay to talk about them? What happened to focusing on alternative ways to handle situations, emotionally?

This is why we have Coaches and Counsellers! It’s not about telling someone what to do and how to handle their life but helping them discover and identify unused resources and opportunities that they already have, such as: How to cope during an emergency, how to deal with life’s stresses, how to handle emotional pain/anger/death/grief etc.

Do they even talk about this in school? How about at home? I’m not a parent and I can tell you that when I went to school (a LONG time ago) it was never covered off, not even remotely.

Now, I did a little research and it looks like in the British Columbia, curriculum under Physical Health, this subject is touched upon, briefly. So, I’m encouraged but from what I’ve read, it’s certainly not extensive. Big topics such as: sexual identity, bullying, emotional and physical changes during puberty and managing problems related to mental health are all in there. That’s great! This is 100% better than when I was a kid, but what about the nuts and bolts of everyday life? What about how we always tell boys not to cry and to suck it up? And how media encourages girls to look ‘western’ pretty (thin/sculpted features/large breasts…you get what I’m saying. Most of them do not look like that; I didn’t and sure don’t, now. What about female role models? Has that changed much? By looking at the books with key female roles, not so much.

My 22-year old niece worshipped Barbie from 2-years old until around 8 or 9-years old. What are we telling our kids who grow up thinking Barbie is what a woman is supposed to look like?

Our world is SO fast-paced and intellectually engaging for our young. We give them high-tech electronics practically at birth but do we ever sit down and talk about what it’s like to be sad or mad? Or, what this growing emotional being thinks about all of that? Think about it. Emotions RUN our lives. If you believe differently, just look at the news and then come back and tell me how it made you FEEL.

I’m just saying, folks, we need to change our entire strategy. What good is having a degree in neural science, having a perfect body, being wildly successful in your career if you’re not happy on the inside?

Now, I know a few AMAZing parents who nurture their children wisely and by the time they are teenagers, I’m willing to bet they will be highly sensitive, functional and intelligent beings capable of making very good decisions. That’s not the norm, though.

So what is the answer? How do we prepare the next generation so they can help fix this world? Who is responsible? Parents? Teachers?

Everyone. What’s who. Without a group effort, this paradigm shift will not take place any time soon.

sad depressed lonely adolescent teen boy

The Aftermath of Suicide

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 11, 2017

It’s been two years to the day that the man I loved ended his life; an odd anniversary of sorts and there is still so much to say and so much that I’ve already said. I feel, sometimes, that I’m endlessly repeating myself.

So, I’ll be somewhat brief.

If you’ve known someone or loved someone who has experience with losing a person to suicide, or intimately understand what it’s like because you’ve been through it…

Be gentle. Be kind and be empathetic to those that have survived and yourself, if you – like me, have learned to live with it.

You see, that’s all you can do; live with it. You don’t get over it and you don’t forget about it just because it’s behind you. You live with the stigma of suicide around you, every day.

I’m not a grief counselor but I will become an educator. This happens so much more often than I was ever aware of and I’m guessing most people are not aware of the staggering statistics.

Why? Because we, as a society, sweep it under the carpet. It’s a dirty little secret and we talk in hushed, whispered tones, quickly looking around to make sure we are not overheard.

“Did you hear? He killed himself…”

Then, everyone not involved, goes about their daily life and tries not to think about it. Yup. We typically don’t reach out to the survivors, we don’t try and understand mental illness; we try and forget about it if it didn’t concern ourselves directly.

Before Brian, I’d never had any experience with suicide, suicide grief or had known anyone close to me who’d chosen to leave the world by their own hand. So, I can’t say that I was any different, or any more compassionate. Honestly, I can’t remember if the topic ever came up.

My point is that it’s not a fault of the individual; it’s the fault of our culture and the lack of education and understanding.

So I will become one of the educators because I really need to. I need people to understand that you can’t get over it. It lives with you, daily. It becomes a part of you and rather than reject it, I choose to embrace it.

I choose to take this experience and make something positive out of it.

Brian’s life mattered. ALL lives matter, no matter what our exit strategy is out of this world.

So please, don’t pretend it doesn’t happen. Don’t avoid the topic or whisper about it.

YELL IT OUT.

Everyone needs to know and learn about mental illness and how to help those that are suffering.

Because it can kill.

Just like cancer.

Just like any other disease known to humans.

It’s time to make this a priority and stop pretending it’s not a massive problem.

Suicide is a major cause of premature and preventable deaths.

Suicide is one of the leading causes of death for people of all ages. In 2009, it ranked as the ninth leading cause of death in Canada. Among those aged 15 to 34, suicide was the second leading cause of death, preceded only by accidents (unintentional injuries).

In memory of Bri

Lighting Up the World

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 17, 2017

There is a lot going on in the world; I’m stating the obvious, here. International political relationships haven’t been this bad in a long time. I think there are various degrees of concern. While many simply go about their day-to-day lives and never give war/poverty/violence on a Global Scale a second thought…there are others that are all too aware, that if unchecked, this could escalate into something really, really, bad and before we know it, we could be plunging into a third world war.

Does that sound plausible to you or do you think everything will be fine and we should ignore the drama?

Personally, I find disregard for human lives and welfare, anywhere in the world, unacceptable – but, this is the age we live in, isn’t it?

What’s really going on? We launch massive bombs at an already ravaged country and then pat ourselves on the back about it. We make threats to countries that might not have an issue launching their nuclear weapons in our direction. We decide that Global Warming doesn’t exist (just because one guy tells us this) and then we go about our consumer lives and nothing changes. I realize I’m generalizing and when I say ‘WE’ I’m painting with a very broad brush. The fact is, individually, we’re pretty powerless to intervene. Or…are we?

Why aren’t the alarm bells screaming?

I believe that far too many people have become desensitized to global atrocities because they don’t necessarily happen to THEM and let’s face it, watching it on TV or reading about it online, just doesn’t cut it.

I am a Lightworker. Perhaps you are too? If you are, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about and you’ll want to help. If you don’t think you are, that’s okay – we need you, as well. What I can tell you from a Spiritual perspective, is that there is much happening on the other side. We live in perilous times but this is a wake-up call and a call to action. This is an incredible opportunity to transcend ourselves past this world of starvation, greed, violence and EGO and redefine our humanity. Peace. Love. Harmony. Perhaps that’s too 1960’ish for you?

Then let’s keep it real, current, and start with just yourself. You can do that right? Not too hard?

No one person can really save a planet all by themselves but we can start by changing our way of thinking and doing.

Do’s and Don’ts:

Don’t panic. Jumping up and down, pointing finger, yelling and flapping your arms about isn’t going to stop anything.
DO be grateful for every little thing you have.
Don’t give in to the FEAR. Fear = hate = exacerbates the problem = point of no return.
DO give LOVE…everywhere. Really, send out love to every little atom out there. We can’t possible do this enough. Envision Earth right there in front of you and send it all the love you can muster. Do this a LOT. Love = light = peace = goodness = GOD/Source/Whatever you believe in.

There are Lightworkers all over the world doing good work. You can help and all you need to do is suspend whatever disbelief you may have and send a little love into the world. Yup, that’s it. We can make this really complicated, or keep it super simple (KISS).

Go on and light it up so that whatever darkness WE have created, whatever FEAR we are buying into, becomes nothing more than playful shadows.

Never forget, we are the masters of our own destiny. There is no real evil except what we create/manifest. We do this to ourselves and the silly thing is, we can choose not to. We can choose differently.

I don’t care how ridiculous this sounds. Dig deep inside yourself and ask one question:

Would it hurt to send the world some love?

Are you ready? I’ll go through it one more time because you may have missed it.

Close your eyes. Imagine this beautiful blue and green planet in front of you with all its life force as if it were your own child. Focus on your heart chakra or heart area and radiate your love all over it.

If you feel foolish – just remember, no one will know but you.

It can be our little secret…

When Someone Ignores You

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 5, 2017

I think I’ve written about this topic, before, but it was quite some time ago.

Recently, a friend of mine, asked me what to do or how to react if the man she’s currently dating doesn’t respond to her emails, texts, etc. I could tell this upset her and, why wouldn’t it?

NO ONE enjoys being ignored. No one.

So why do we do it? Why do we think it’s okay to be disrespectful when we typically hate it when it’s done to us? As I’ve been in the sales world for 30-years, I’m very used to people not getting back to me. It’s a priority thing – I’m trying to sell them something/pass along information, and they don’t always have the time or need to get back to me.

I get that, as annoying as it is, I get that. However, I make it a practice to always be polite and respectful of sales reps reaching out to me. No matter how cheesy they come across, how insistent they are, or how presumptuous, I can’t find it within myself to be mean. Mean/rude people, no matter how you want to justify it, are just that: mean and rude.

You can make whatever excuse you want to, explain yourself away by saying you’re teaching that person a lesson (how kind of you!) etc., etc…but there simply is no justification to be impolite to someone who is just trying to make a living.

Not everyone is lucky enough to not have to cold call or email strangers to make ends meet. It’s great that you make all your business through word of mouth but at some point, you will talk to someone out there and tell them about YOU and what you DO. That, my darlings, is selling. It’s relationship selling, but it’s selling.

All of this said, it’s often the ones closest to us, our friends and family, that think it’s perfectly okay to not get back to us, or take weeks to do it. We’ve heard it all.

I lost your text.

No, you didn’t. You purposefully deleted it and then forgot about that person or chose to not reply.

I thought I emailed you back.

If you have that many personal emails to respond to, make a list and set aside some time to respond to those who you mean something to. We’re all busy. We all have better things we can/should be doing and we can all set aside 30 min. to type out a few quick emails. Even if it’s just to say: “I’m super busy! I haven’t forgotten about you…and will respond when I’ve got some more time. Xox”

Now, if you know me and are reading this and think I may be talking about you (and you’re now upset) you very well may be guilty. If you are, put yourself in the place of someone who gets ignored, and think about how that makes you feel.

Pretty crappy, right?

When you ignore someone, you’re telling them that they don’t matter to you. This leads to hurt feelings, anger, resentment and confusion. The result of this is that this person thinks you don’t care.

Clearly you matter to them! If you have someone in your life who doesn’t matter to you, time to cut them loose and save them some hurt.

Back to my friend. As she was clearly upset by this man ignoring her, I asked her why she spent time engaging with someone who wasn’t engaging with her. If your love interest can’t be bothered with you…why are they still your love interest? I can tell you they are not so interested in you!

Your takeaway is to really think how it affects others when you consciously choose to not respond when they reach out to you or take an unreasonable amount of time. How much time is unreasonable? Ask yourself how long you think it should take others to get back to you…

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Two Years Later

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 13, 2017

I blog a lot about Brian and how his suicide changed my life. However, this post isn’t so much about Bri, but more on how those changes have taken root and grown in the past (almost) two years.

It’s a little early as it’s two months away but the closer I get to the date, the harder it becomes, emotionally. Today, however, today I can write/talk about what’s happened in the span of almost 24 months.

Firstly, it DOES get easier. It really does. Not a lot, but I’ll take any tiny bit of peace I can get. It’s not that I still don’t think of him every day or get weepy when a song on the radio comes on that reminds me of him…but it’s a little less. I feel I’ve turned a corner on this grief and I wanted to share that with you.

If you’d met me pre-Brian and today, you’d definitely know that I’ve changed as a person – for the good and not so good.

I find that, for nice people, I’m more willing to do just about anything, should they ask. For jerks, I have zero tolerance and I tend to lose my temper, a lot. I’m mindful of my meltdowns and, for the most part, I can calm myself and not fall apart when something makes me irate.

From what I understand, this is still part of processing what happened. It’s getting less and daily meditation is helping.

I find that I’ve become an advocate, of sorts, and will not tolerate any jokes towards mental illness. I’m extremely sensitive towards people talking flippantly about suicide but I’ve also become more aware and caring as an individual. I do what I can for my fellow human and I find that I will cry, easily, over sad or touching pictures/events/videos/etc.

I FINALLY know what I want to be when I grow up! Yes, it’s taken 51 years, but better late than never, right? Had you told me I was going to be a Life Coach? I would have asked: what’s a Life Coach??

I believe in myself (my abilities) a whole bunch more, but my self-esteem still needs some work. No matter how many times my sweetheart assures me I’m NOT fat, ugly, old…(insert every female insecurity here) I have a hard time believing it’s true. Pre-Brian, I was pretty certain I was doing really well and for 49, thought I was hawt! Now, I’m not so sure how I feel about ‘me’. Part of it has to do with that Woman, whom he was still smitten with and who broke his heart (which lead to his premature demise)… and part of it has to do with getting older. Starting Menopause has not been a whole hell of a lot of fun, I can tell you that.

Two years ago, I was doing very well at my job, LOVED it, in fact, and was kinda proud of myself for doing well and being finally debt-free. I really liked myself and knew I was in a good space for a lasting relationship with the right person. I didn’t have any baggage, was saving to buy a place and felt I had a lot to offer.

Today, I’m actually financially even better off (thanks to Brian’s life insurance) but other than having a great down payment for a home and paying off the new car I bought (after I accidentally murdered the old one in a bad accident), the money means nothing to me. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, that’s not it at all. I really do!

It’s just that money, in general, doesn’t = success/fun, any more. It’s necessary and I need/want it, but it’s just kinda there. Prior to this tragedy, had I come across a large sum of cash, I’d be planning trips and having an awesome time but maybe because I didn’t ‘earn’ this money and because of the circumstances around it, it seems like I shouldn’t spend any of it on anything other than stuff that’s necessary (car/home).

Funny story – when I went to pay off my car loan, the loan clerk looked at me and said (knowing that I’d gotten the cash from an inheritance): Congratulations!!

I just stared at her in disbelief thinking how what I’d do/give/sell (my soul??) to have Brian back. She finally figure out that this wasn’t a ‘happy’ inheritance (what ones ever are?!) and said her condolences for my loss. Idiot.

Today, I appreciate my career but believe it’s not what I’m supposed to do. Today, it’s not about feeding my bank account but feeding my soul and my urgent need to help others.

Two years ago, I ‘may’ have been a tiny bit arrogant. Today ‘humble’ is my middle name. I have a hard time NOT being empathetic to people that, in the past, I would never be. Although, if you say or imply anything bad towards Brian or mental illness (of any sort) the claws come out, quick.

They are quite sharp and lethal, I assure you.

Two years ago, I couldn’t have imagined meeting someone like Pete who is the first man in I-don’t-know-how-many-years…whom I actually BELIEVE is truly in love with me. Seriously, he adores me rotten and I don’t know how I’d be doing, now, without him – me this broken, fragile remanence of a woman.I’m surprised he stuck it out; life with me isn’t always easy.

I needed someone with really BIG LOVE to come into my life…just as Brian needed the same from me. Funny how that works, isn’t it? I helped him, even if he took his life, anyway, I think he stuck around a little while longer because he knew I loved him so VERY much.

Sometimes BIG love is enough, sometimes it isn’t.

I get it now, Spirit, thank you for that lesson.

Two years ago, if you’d told me that I’ve have my own website, little business, and be planning to completely change careers, mid-life, I wouldn’t have believed you.

Two years ago, if you’d told me that I’d come out as a Psychic Medium, I would have burst out laughing. Today, it’s just part of my everyday life.

Two years ago, just before I met Brian, I was really lonely and wondered if I’d EVER find someone to live the rest of my life with. Today, the man I love not only lives with me, but I can’t imagine a day where I wouldn’t wake up next to him. He doesn’t fill the hole that Brian left (it’s a rather large one) but, instead, fills my whole heart with love and joy. I couldn’t be more thankful for him.

Two years ago, I was just going along …living life and not really paying too much attention.

Today, I live in every moment, pay attention to everything and feel blessed for every hurt/tear/sob/scar; because without these, I wouldn’t have grown. I wouldn’t have known the plight of those who are suffering (mostly in silence) with mental illnesses and I wouldn’t have discovered what I really had in me, as a Soul, having a very HUMAN experience.

So yeah, I’m grateful…almost two years later. xo suicide7-copy

Sometimes life moves on…but not really.

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 24, 2017

It’s coming up to two years since Brian passed away by his own hand.

TWO. Years. About a week ago, (back 24 months) we’d just met.

Some days it seems like it was yesterday and I can still hear his laugh and feel the smoothness of his skin.

Other days, I’m lost in the moment of what my life is now: established relationship, getting ready to purchase a condo, together, same job…and of course, a new little company that I’ve started on the side.

I’m now a (proper) Professional (certified) Life Coach. (happy dance!)

If I look back, I’ve come a long way since that fateful May evening but on the other hand, it still haunts me. This, more than anything, confirms that grief knows no template or order.

It simply ‘is’ there and will show up whenever it feels like it. Or…not at all. I can now go whole days without shedding a tear, but I still think of him, often. There’s all the little reminders sprinkled around my life. I think, once we move, it will get a little easier.

This event is so significant that I don’t feel I’ll ever be able to put it behind me, rather, it will accompany me on my journey – kind of like a little stone I carry around in my shoe. It hurts, but I’ve grown used to it and there are now calluses to help mitigate the ache. I think I’d miss it if it should disappear.

I hope I’m wiser. I hope this has made me a better (more kindhearted and caring) person. I pray that I never have to maneuver through this kind of hell, again. I don’t think I’d survive it. I ask that I be able to continue to help others in any way or by any means that I can. I will always advocate for mental health.

And I will forever miss him.

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Comic Relief

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 31, 2017

In light of all the bad stuff going (and OH, there’s a lot!).

Tapping Into Your Intuition

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 19, 2017

We did an interesting exercise during one of my Life Coaching classes that I’d like to share. Being an Intuitive, it was pretty easy for me as this is what I do! However, I was pleasantly surprised by how accurate people were without any training. This supports the theory that, as souls, we all have an intuitive ability and we can certainly develop it if we wish to.

The exercise was to sit across from someone, and have that person ‘think’ of an issue or life question. We had to look into their eyes, take a moment to see what came through and just talk about what we were intuitively feeling and picking up.

Lots of people were bang on with information they received without the other person saying a word. Some were so shocked by the truths of what was shared that there were tears. It’s a very humbling experience.

Try it; you’ll be glad that you did and perhaps be able to tap into YOUR intuition and (hopefully) listen to it, all the better.

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Happy New Year 2017

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 1, 2017

Wow, what a bizarre 12 months 2016 was! It’s like we all stepped into the Twilight Zone where surreal became reality. I’m not sure I’m over it, yet.

That being said, it’s time to take a big breath (really BIG breath, maybe several) and take a peek into the new year of our lives. What do you see? What do you feel? How do you think you will be?

The New Year is always a bit daunting; especially with the way the world is, today. Let’s face it, there’s a lot of crap going on and for the most part, we are powerless to make an impact. However, here’s 5 things you can do as a start to a positive new beginning.

Focus your energy on LOVE, not anger.

Be kinder in a world where there is so much hate, violence and misunderstandings.

Hug someone, today…even if it’s just your pet. 🙂 Pets need our love and support, too.

Reach out to a friend you’ve not spoken to in a while and just ask them how they are doing.

Tell someone you love and appreciate them. It could your mother, or sister or lover or spouse. Maybe it’s your best friend or dad or brother. Maybe it’s yourself. Always save some love for YOU – you need it just as much.

Be brave, my lovelies; I think we’re in for a wild ride but an uplifting one. Let us make a difference, one hug at a time. Let us pass along the positive and the love so that it grows and becomes a force so much stronger than what’s out there, now.

We can do it; I have faith in humanity, one soul at a time.

TONS of love!

Carrie xo

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Being True to Yourself

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 30, 2016

Recently, I realized that I’ve been lying to myself. In fact, most of us are not honest with ourselves 100% of the time. I didn’t want to believe what my heart was telling me so I brought my head into the conversation and head said: “Oh, hey there! Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out, don’t listen to Heart – we’ve got this and don’t pay attention to all the hidden little signs of possible trouble ahead, we can deal with those later…”

Turns out, my Head, was very wrong and my Heart was the one really paying attention all along. In essence, I was fooling myself into thinking I could work things out by ignoring all the red flags that were popping up. I let things just ‘happen’ without really watching or listening to signs that everything wasn’t on the up-and-up, and now it’s unraveling because the other person involved wasn’t being honest with themselves, either.

So there we were, the both of us merrily going along, pretending it was all OKAY and ignoring warning signs like: anxiety, control, avoidance, haste, and a few other things that are now coming to light. It’s extremely important that we speak our truth at all times and when someone doesn’t, we get led down a path only to find out it’s a dead-end.

Does this sound familiar? I suspect it does. So…what’s the lesson, here?

I believe if we are truly in sync with ourselves and speak our highest truth, we will find that it’s okay to say: No, I’m not comfortable with that or…I’m not ready for that, yet. We have the right to do that and it’s being fair to all involved. If we acquiesce, constantly, we are not only hurting ourselves, but others, too. And if we try and push the deal through to get what we want (knowing the other person isn’t or might not be totally on board) we do the same thing.

Step into your higher self when being asked the BIG questions in life – like commitment, going forward in relationships, how you feel, where you want to be, what you really want, etc. Be honest and say what’s really on your mind.

In the end, you will avoid a whole boatload of issues that you’ll now have to deal with. It’s like having a massive party at your house and leaving the mess sitting there for months. The longer you wait to clean it up, the ickier it gets and the more difficult it becomes to come clean.

I think if we practice this, in time, our lives will be easier and a lot more peaceful. Print

The Healing Corner

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 21, 2016

I’m live, my lovelies.

http://www.thehealingcorner.ca/

Check it out!

When People Judge

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 1, 2016

We’ve all been judged by others, all of us. We know how it feels, yet we still keep on doing it. I often wonder why it’s ‘okay’ for us to judge others but hate it when it happens to us. I suspect we can add this to another one of life’s little ironies, idiocies and hypocrisies.

The other day, my partner’s best friend’s daughter ran away. It turns out she’s been into various substances and is stealing. She’s all of 13 and this has been an ongoing issue. Thankfully they found her the following day but this isn’t going to be an easy journey for them.

I suspect it’s not one, but many factors at play that contribute to this issue. I don’t think she’s a terrible person. I don’t think her parents are terrible people, either. Life deals us shit sandwiches, now and then, and we have to understand how we’re going to eat them. What I’m getting at is that this isn’t a problem that’s limited to bad parenting, evil children or broken homes.

It could happen to you.

I was sharing a bit of this information with a certain co-worker and his response was the following: You need to get find yourself much better company, Carrie.

In other words, the company you keep is BAD NEWS.

What exactly did he mean by that? He doesn’t know my boyfriend, he doesn’t know these people and I suspect the underlying tone was directed at the fact my late boyfriend took his life.

Did this make him a BAD person? Fuck, no. It made him a person who was in an immeasurable amount of pain, one that fought mental illness and one that lost to it.

Is this little runaway a rotten kid? Again. NO. She’s a CHILD and unlike children of my generation, she has unlimited access to high-end technology that didn’t exist when I was 13. Like, the internet, cell phones, instant video and a plethora of (again instant) communication and easy transportation at her fingertips.

We have made it really simple for kids to access all sorts of stuff. In fact, it’s scary what they can do in the blink of an eye…like text a dealer for drugs and meet them very quickly with cash on hand due the handy-dandy bank card with the TAP feature. I suspect all she had to do was to go a store that had a cash-back option, buy something under $100 and ask for money back. No one would have questioned her.

I’m not sure if this was the situation but it could easily happen.

So how does this relate to why a middle-aged grown woman should chose better people in her life? I suspect this person put on his judge hat and thought that because a confused and easily manipulated little girl made some very bad choices, that the chain link up to her parents and my partner was littered with BAD people.

Because we ALL know that’s the case right?

I’m being facetious.

It has nothing to do with anything and I took a moment to decide NOT to find out if he was implying that Brian was less-than-worthy company because he chose to end his life. Nothing could be further from the truth and even remotely implying that to someone is not only judgmental, but sadly ignorant and plainly mislead by un-empowering beliefs.

So, I say to you, before you cast the first stone, turn around and make sure your support wall isn’t made of glass. Because life can take a turn for the worst in a matter of seconds…and this could be your child, your partner and when that glass breaks…it’s very, very, sharp.

Bad things happen to good people all the time. It’s just that the good people aren’t always being dramatic about it and drawing attention to themselves; we’ve got better things to do, like find our broken, yet much loved, child…and get on the road to recovery.

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Dealing with Grief 101 – Part II

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 24, 2016

I really should proof-read at least 10 times before hitting the “post” button. It would seem I double copied some of my previous post and well…that’s just never fun to read, is it?

Most sorry about that and all fixed now. 🙂

Aright – onwards and upwards.

I’ll list 5 more little known (or maybe you DO know them) items one may want to think on when going through any type of sorrow.

Create a safe space for yourself to ‘do’ the grieving. Crying is just part of it. You may want to yell, scream, throw things or simply curl up into a little ball and whimper. All of this is OKAY. You’re going through trauma and shoving all that raw emotion down into yourself will make it worse. Let it out.

Think about what happens when you put on a pot of water to boil with a tight lid on it. What happens, eventually, when the water boils? It’s all about the pressure. At some point, we will boil over as there will be a tremendous amount of pressure building inside us and it needs out.

Again, let it all out. If you’re not comfortable doing this in front of anyone, make sure you’re alone. If you have someone who can be there with and for you, tell them exactly what you need to do. It’s less scary that way. If you need to scream while someone is holding you – do it.

It’s okay to be angry and sad. In fact, it’s completely normal. Remember, your life has just been turned upside down and all the contents that were YOU have been dumped out. You’ve now got the task of collecting yourself and reassembling YOU. It’s not an easy job.

Be ready for the waves. I’ve heard the analogy plenty of times and it’s such an accurate one. My counsellor told me that there will be massive tsunamis and small swells. You just don’t know when they’ll be coming because they’re stealthy little shits.

You may be in the middle of a meeting and suddenly “WHAM!” you remind yourself that you should call someone about something funny that just happened in said meeting and then the very next thought is: “Oh yeah, so-and-so is DEAD.”

And just like that it’s game over. You’re reliving everything and preventing tears is extremely difficult. I believe this is a good example of why just getting on with your life and keeping yourself busy may not work so well.

So how do you deal with that? I would say any way you can. I’ve feigned having to use the ladies and excused myself. I’ve sucked it back, finished the meeting and then allowed myself to have a complete breakdown in my car, afterwards. There is just no easy answer as that elephant in the room that you’re trying to ignore comes over and steps on you, every once in a while.

It’s not like you can say: “Sorry, my wife just asked me for a divorce out of the blue so I need to take a moment and cry; is that alright with you?”

But hey, wouldn’t it be nice if we lived in a world where that WAS okay to do? Where people were so compassionate that they’d understand completely?

People will avoid you. Well, most people will when they find out. That’s because, as humans, we’re not good with seeing others grieve. We’re uncomfortable and we really don’t know what’s expected of us. Some, will reach out briefly to offer condolences but then disappear back into the abyss. Your true friends, however, will be there and they will check in on you regularly.

Typically these are the people who have been through some sort of traumatic grief, themselves. My best friend battled (and won!) against breast cancer but it took its toll on her and she went through hell.

SHE, got it. We were there for each other and it didn’t matter how often I needed to talk about it, she listened, and listened and listened some more. I can still talk to her any time. And she knows she can talk to me, anytime, about everything she is still going through. She lives on the other side of the planet but we’re thick as thieves.

It’s okay to let those people who ARE there for you, know when you need some space. Sometimes you need to be by yourself to process everything. It’s understandable, as you desperately try and make sense of what happened. In the case of suicide bereavement, you may never make sense of it because, to the ones left living, we can’t ever comprehend what was going on in their minds and hearts.

Know that you’ll learn to live with this. If you need some solitude, take it. Always be kind to yourself.

For a long time, it will be like you’re walking in a fog. You will go through a torrent of emotions and no, they won’t be in a nice little package labeled: The Five (and I’ve seen seven) Stages of Grief. Yes, those emotions will be knocking at your door, but there are no neat little ‘stages’ where you can tick off each one as they come and go. NOPE, it doesn’t work that way. In fact there are a ton of emotions to get to know.

I’d like to point out that I never went through denial. I also didn’t go through bargaining. I am, though, quite good friends with depression and anger. Each visit me, frequently, and we get on quite well. Sometimes they show up for tea at the same time and we have a big ‘ole party.

Now, guilt. Guilt and I are practically best buds. This is such a fun emotion (not) and even though I know full well I could not have saved Brian, some part of me still likes to think I could have and that if I’d only done this or that (like not forget my damn phone) he’d still be alive. The fact is: he made a choice then and there and it’s already happened. I cannot change the outcome.

And just like that it was all over and my whole world changed. Yours will change, too. It’s maneuvering those changes that I can help you with.

I think this is a better representation but we’re all unique and going through grief is different for every person.

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Dad’s Binoculars

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 17, 2016

I’m not sure how I ended up with them; it could be that he still had them in his pile of things when he passed away, or he may have left them at the house when he moved out and my parents finally split up for good. I was seventeen. That was a bad day.

They are mine, now, and occasionally I take them out and look through them. When I was a little girl, we took them with us on trips to Waterton National Park in Alberta. We’d drive the three hours or so up there and wander around Red Rock Canyon and Waterton Lake. My parents used to feed the deer, potato chips. It was the 70’s and people thought that was okay, back then.

They are Tasco Model # 318 (the binoculars, not the deer) and they’re 7 x 35 zoom. They’re big, kinda clunky and I can get something a whole lot better and smaller for pretty cheap, today, but these are special. They hold memories that can’t be replaced; those that I keep sacred in my heart.

I still have the little plastic cups for the eye pieces and the lenses. I think, somewhere on this metal and plastic relic, my dad’s fingerprints might even be buried beneath years of mine, my mom’s and possibly my two siblings. Dad’s been gone for twenty-seven years, now. That’s a lot of finger grease.

Today the fading evening sun was tracing a lovely orange-pink outline on cotton candy clouds. They were in the distance and I wanted to see them better. I love clouds…rows and flows of angel hair, right?

So I got out my dad’s binoculars and went to it. I wasn’t disappointed. Fiery apricot sunbeams lit up the sky with sheets of warmth embedded in the indigo of this afternoons rain. It was magical.

Time is a funny thing. I know it was so long ago that he held them in his hands and I remember he got them, one year, for his birthday. Yet…I can still hear his laugh as if it were yesterday and I can see him squinting into the lenses of the eye holes, lit pipe in-between his teeth as he smiled into the distance. He loved this gift and we took them with us, every vacation.

I wonder if dad every looked at clouds through this spyglass. I wonder what he saw if he did…

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Dealing With Grief 101 – AKA Things Your Psychologist/Shrink/Counsellor – May Not Mention

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 12, 2016

I’ve been thinking a lot about the US’s recent election (I’m Canadian) and thought I should write about that. Then, I realized that I really needed to figure out the next step in my career (which is to help heal those in grief through Life Coaching and other healing modalities).

Oddly enough, the two collide as I watch my Southern neighbour come to grips with who their next leader really is. I see many in grief.

So this might be apropos; but let’s stick to the topic…

Some of the things you need to know and that I’d cover off in sessions are (I’ll start with 5):

It’s okay to grieve. Whatever society (by that I mean religion, upbringing, culture, etc.) says to you, It’s OKAY to feel bad when you’re going through a shitty time. Whether it’s something incredibly traumatic like a suicide or something immediately life altering, like losing your job, you need to grieve. It’s not only healthy, it’s necessary.

In fact, you can’t NOT grieve as even if you stuff your emotions deep down inside yourself, they’ll come bubbling up in a violent torrent and (trust me on this one) it will be much worse than just letting it happen right from the start.

Grief comes in a nice variety of forms. From tears to rage to quiet depression and everything you can think of, in-between. It’s a hell of a ride. It can haunt you in your dreams, prevent you from sleeping, cause you to overeat, under eat and wreak havoc on your immune system so you’re more vulnerable to getting ill. The message? Take care – EXTRA care of yourself and know that your behavior will be anything from normal. Again…it’s okay.

Grief is going to change you. This change starts from the moment that bad thing (whatever it was) happened. This change is ongoing and could move within you for sometime. Where you’ll land is undetermined but while you’re changing, it may be helpful to be cognizant of it, at least.

This will help you a great deal when it comes to determining the changes you want to make in your life. It could be something small or, in my case, it could completely change who you are and what your prime focus becomes.

Not every one is going to be understanding of your pain. Even if your child is taken away from you prematurely, there still may be some asshole who says something ‘not’ empathetic like: Well, at least he died peacefully… Know this: when life takes a turn for the worst, you learn who supports you and who doesn’t. If you encounter someone who brushes your pain off, tells you to ‘suck it up, buttercup’, or just plain avoids you, let them out of your life.

I’m not saying you need to be mean, but you’ll be doing yourself a favour by lovingly letting these people go. They are not in alignment with you and vice versa. Keep those around you who don’t judge, don’t give you their opinions, and most of all, are there to LISTEN to you or just be with you when you’re on your knees or curled up in a little ball of heart wrenching tears.

Get lots of rest and take as much time off as you can. When Brian took his life, I took all of 4 days off work. He died on a Monday. The next Monday I was off on a plane to visit a client in the interior of BC for meetings and presentations.

The amount of effort it took for me to a) stay on track, b) NOT burst into sobs and c) be coherent – was incredible. I think it took every ounce of will within me to keep sane. People told me to ‘just get back into it’ and that I’d feel better.

They were wrong. Keep yourself busy! My boss told me. I wanted to shimmy under my bed and hide from the world for an eternity. Sometimes it was so overwhelming and confusing, I wanted to die. Not take my own life, but I literally prayed for death. It was so much more than I ever could have imagined: more terrible, more heart breaking, more surreal, more painful, more of everything.

So, take all the time you need and don’t short change yourself.

Stay tuned and don’t touch that dial…there’s more comin’ your way.

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Conversations with My Dead Boyfriend

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 25, 2016

Yep; thought that title would grab your attention.

As an out of the closet Intuitive Medium, I chat with Bri on a regular basis. It’s healing when you’re going through a shit-ton of grief. It doesn’t matter that I have a new man in my life whom I adore and it doesn’t matter that it’s been a year and a half. The ache, the pain, it’s all still there and I need consoling.

So yeah, he knows when I’m in tears and when I have doubts and when I’m heading towards the darkness of depression. He’s been there, you see, so he totally gets it. Having someone he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with suddenly walk out on him and tell him to never bother her again, was devastating to him.

Having a man you’re completely in love with take their life over that is equally devastating. I have some bad days. In fact, I have many bad days where I feel like I’m drowning but somehow I manage to tread water long enough to get to the next day…and the next.

So what does he tell me? He tells me to hang in there. He tells me I’ll be okay; sometimes I don’t believe him but I listen, anyway. He tells me he loves me. I sometimes don’t believe that, either, but that’s just me playing the ‘hurt’ card. I know, in my heart, he does.

He tells me to do it for him and that he’s here for me like I was for him. He thanks me for being so patient with him and never giving up hope. He has high hopes for me. At times, he’s playful (he always did have a stupendous sense of humour!) and sweet. Other times, he’s serious and gets frustrated with me constantly questioning his feelings. He wants me to know, quite adamantly, that he loved me then, loves me now, and will continue to do so.

But sometimes I can be a little shit and I go through the ‘I’m mad at you’ feelings and I slink down into unworthiness and guilt; those are SO much fun to deal with. I loop back around to compare myself to HER – and I can’t because I’m not 13-years younger with a perfect yoga bod with long blonde perfect hair and a perfect pretty face. I’m 50 for God’s sake. Although I think I’ve held up well…

I feel that I wasn’t ENOUGH for him but I know the truth. He wasn’t enough for himself. He wasn’t leaving ME, or HER – he was trying to break up with himself. As he found out, this cannot be done but I assure you the unbearable pain he encircled himself with is long gone. He’s fine – regretful, but fine.

He hangs around, patiently, while I move through self-deprecating emotions and waits until I come to the same conclusion, every time. That I was enough for him and that I DID have what he was looking for in a relationship, and then some. If I can quote him: “A relationship can’t survive, or be of any measurable substance, if there’s no depth. A pretty face and nice body is not depth.”

I have depth in abundance.

What you need to know is…they are around you.

Talk to them. You know who I mean, the one you lost and loved. They are near you a LOT. They see your tears and can hear you just as plain as day. Speak to them out loud and look for signs; they will send them. They are OKAY; they are with Spirit and GOD/Source whatever you want to call IT.

They are alive! They are without hurts and afflictions, they are whole and healthy and happy. And possibly the thing you need to know the most:

They Miss you. They Love you. And they do these things, constantly, as much as you do.

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Dear Neighbours to the South

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 12, 2016

I’ve been pretty quiet about the impending US Election but hey, it’s crunch-time …

Hey there,

It’s Canada, here. We’re rather concerned about who may be running your country, next. In fact, the whole world is on the very edge of their seats – and not in a good way.

Now…not everyone is a big “Hillary” fan and I get that but the alternative is, well…it’s insane, really. I won’t get into it because I think there is enough out there on the Interwebs to explain what I’m talking about and unless you’ve been living in a cave on Mars for the last 6 months or so, you’re well aware of the multiple scandals, shenanigans and whatnot.

So…

You’ve gotten yourselves into quite the pickle, haven’t you?

Which evil to pick??? Well, neither are evil, really, just flawed human beings like the rest of us, however, the rest of us are not wanting to run the most powerful country on our planet. Just sayin’.

So let’s keep with this ‘evil’ theme just for shits and giggles. And, to keep it simple in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way.

Here is what I think: You’ve got the Wicked Witch of the West VS Satin-in-all-his-glory. Now, no one wants a wicked witch running the show but hear me out. After all, as long as the flying monkeys are fed, you should be okay’ish, right?

Now, Satan…he pretends to be on your side but we all know his objective is to take your soul. You need your soul! And he doesn’t really care which souls they are, either. Oh….he’s spewing off about African Americans, Latinos, women, people who are physically challenged, LBGT, Muslims, Rosie O’Donnell (have I left anyone out?) and, there’s a great deal of question around his sexual deviancy & decency but it’s your SOUL he really wants.

If you’re not on this list, it’s only a matter of time. Trust me.

We love you, America, and I’m not just saying this because you’re our biggest trading partner but because you’re kinda like a big brother to us. I know people with older siblings who have issues, so I’m not judging. You’re already GREAT so no one has to make you that way, again. Don’t buy into this hogwash.

Plus, you’re our neighbor and all; we’re stuck with you. It’s not like we can pick up our HUGE landmass and move it adjacent to Australia. Although, that would be really cool given that it’s way warmer and Canadians and Aussies get along quite well.

But I digress…

Pick the witch, for the love of all that’s HOLY! She may make your life a living hell but at least you won’t reside there, permanently.

You are always welcome, here, after all, we’ve got lots of space (even if much of it is frozen). And I understand we’re very polite (most of the time). We do say, “sorry”, a lot, and I apologize for that.

Anyway, we’re counting on you to do the right thing; please don’t let us down.

Your pals to the North,

xox

You Will Never Be the Same Again

Posted by fragmentedpoet on September 28, 2016

One of the things I was never told in my counselling sessions since Brian passed away, is the fact that I was in the process of changing and would continue to change. In essence, I am becoming a different version of myself.

Now, many things trigger changes within ourselves but suicide is pretty major. I can only tell you my personal experience with this but I know it’s the same for every person going through suicide bereavement. We just don’t look at the world the same, ever again.

In fact, I don’t even look at my friends and family the same or life, in general. Every person’s suicide survivor story is unique to them, as are the changes that occur.

One of the services I wish to offer, in future as a Life Coach, is to help determine what those changes are and how we can best use them to our greatest and highest good. I had to learn to put my life back together, by myself. It was hard because my family and many of my friends didn’t want to discuss it and wished I’d just get on with my life and forget about the whole thing. After all, I’d only known Brian for all of 3-months, didn’t I? How come I was still so upset?

Well, we know that love doesn’t come attached to a time frame and because I was smack in the middle of the infatuation/honeymoon part of the relationship, I got kind of stuck there. Being still “in love” with a man who took his life is very complicated – specifically seeing as the ‘trigger’ event was another woman. As you can imagine, this comes with its own assortment of interesting issues. I had to sort through that, myself, too.

I suspect having help with this from someone who can understand what it’s like to move through the pain and sorrow, could and would be helpful.

I’d like to put together a program of healing and movement. What I mean by that is:

Acknowledging feelings and moving through them over time with the goal to be able to express them in a helpful and healing way. I started colouring! It helped me relax my brain and stop the constant chatter that was going on in there.
Determining next steps in your life and identifying the changes that are taking place in your beliefs, relationships, spiritual understanding etc. I broke up with a few friends and reinforced a bond with another.
Set up goals and touchpoints (to make sure we’re on track) and align them with our core desires. I discovered that I didn’t want to do my day-job any longer so I started taking steps towards something more fulfilling.I’m not there, yet, but I’ve started the process.

I could go on, but you get the point. What worked for me may not work for others but there is something out there that WILL help. The new YOU may or may not be similar to the old YOU and one needs to prepare for that. I think my family is finally starting to see the differences in me, little by little. And, not all changes are that positive so we have to be mindful. You may find yourself not as tolerant or patient, for example, but these are things, once recognized, that you can work on.

I’m embracing the new me but she’s not done transforming. It will be interesting, in the next few years, to see where she lands and I’m rather excited about it.

So, if you’ve been touched by suicide and all of this actually makes sense, know that you’re going to change and that it’s perfectly okay to do so. How or if you choose to help the process is your choice but be aware that these changes will take place through time and if you can identify them, along the way, it could help you through the process.

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Feelings and Whatnot

Posted by fragmentedpoet on September 26, 2016

As I’m meandering my way through my Life Coaching Course, I’m learning a few new things and validating others that I already knew. Not ever being a fan of sympathy, I was happy to learn that empathy trumps it (NOT the Donald) every time.

Do you know the difference? I could write an entire chapter on this but simply put: sympathy is pity; empathy is understanding.

It’s always a better scenario to have someone ‘understand’ your feelings rather than feel sorry for them. Why? Because that’s how we relate to one anther – by putting yourself in someone else’s shoes.

It’s a pretty basic thing…but I will never give a ‘Sympathy’ card out to someone who has lost a loved one, again. I don’t want to pity them, but empathize with what they’re going through. I think we should rename those cards: Empathy cards. Sympathy is the weaker/annoying cousin to empathy – you know…the cousin whom you haven’t seen for a decade that shows up for dinner, one night, expecting you to entertain them. They are just not up to snuff when it comes to hard core feelings such as grief, like empathy is, who will show up only when you need them and want them, but also take you out for a nice meal and throw in a few glasses of wine, to boot.

Empathy listens without judgment. Sympathy interrupts with platitudes and then possibly makes it all about them.

So the next time someone comes to you for a shoulder, listen with empathy. Don’t judge them and let them know they were heard and you’re there for them.

Empathy

World Suicide Prevention Day

Posted by fragmentedpoet on September 10, 2016

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I think it no coincidence that today is the day I end up taking Brian’s ashes to scatter them on a beach he played on, as a child. I was supposed to go, last week, but seeing as it was the Saturday before the last long weekend before School is back in, my sister and I thought better of it. Long and busy ferry lineups are not our thing.

I didn’t even clue in that we’d re-worked our plans for THIS day. There are no coincidences…this was meant to be.

I miss him. Every day, I miss him.

For new readers, my late boyfriend, Brian, took his life on May 11^th, 2015. It is a day that I’ll never forget and one that changed me for the remainder of this life.

Every blog post I read about those who have lost someone that they love, to suicide, tells a similar story. Gut wrenching pain and all too stupid and insensitive comments; platitudes that are tossed out there to us like left over scraps thrown towards a starving street dog.

I’ve heard it all and if you’ve gone through it, so have you.

Mental illness is not treated like other diseases and can you imagine if someone came up to you and said: “Well that was very selfish of him to die of cancer that way!”

That’s the trash we get from friends, family, people who should know better as well as strangers.

One of my all time favourites: “Why aren’t you over it, yet?”

They don’t know any better. We’ve been taught to be uncomfortable around the word: SUICIDE. Why? Because, in our culture, it’s an unacceptable way to die. We’re not supposed to choose to leave on our own. If we spoke about this out in the open, discussed it with our children and loved ones, early on, so it wasn’t a taboo and unholy subject, I believe less people would die.

For those who are battling depression, anxiety and have ever thought of taking their life or who have attempted it, ignorance and societal judgments, as well as, misunderstandings are just the norm. It’s sad and it makes everything SO much worse and I dare say contributes to the rising rate of suicide and suicide attempts.

Those that are so desperate to end their emotional pain that they are willing to end their lives are treated like criminals and outcasts, and that is the worst crime of all.

Let me share this: what suicide attempt survivors wish you to know.

I’ve met others who’ve had a brush with suicidal thoughts; it’s far more common than you think. I know a suicide attempt survivor who is a good friend of mine. One thing that was said was: “thoughts of ending your life never leave you, they are always at the back of your mind. I’d decided that if I ever needed to attempt it, again, that this time I was going to get it right.”

Brian’s story isn’t new. His isn’t unique although his reasons and pain are unique to HIM. How many other people out there are suffering in silence, afraid to ask for help because we criminalize their pain, lock them up like a common killer, and take away every shred of their dignity and all of the things that make them feel human and provide a sense of belonging?

We can do a better job and we have to. In a future blog post I’ll describe the initial PAU (psychiatric assessment unit) that Brian was put into. I will say, now, that it was frightening and he was very scared. I would be too. I’m sure there is a way to fund some sort of community temporary home that allows safe personal items as well as protects people from themselves in a more loving environment. I strongly suspect that family would be willing to help. I would have been.

One issue that is brought to our attention is that our youth are greatly at risk. One in 5 teens have considered suicide, last year according to this article.

One.

In, Five, teenagers…children, for God’s sake.

What is it going to take for us to be comfortable to talk about this in the open? When are we going to let suicide out of it’s closet, because it’s bloody well banging on the door.

Take your religion out of the picture. Take your presumptuous thoughts and set them aside. IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU. It could be your best friend, your spouse, your daughter or your dad. It could be your uncle, your cousin, someone you work with, someone you go to school or the gym with. You could save a life. We could all saves lives if we brought this out into the open and just talked about it.

It could be you. You need to know that it’s safe to talk about.

So, let’s do it. Right here. Open up the door and let it out because if you don’t, it could destroy you.

My goal is to help, to council and to coach. My path is to assist in your healing and guide you to your next steps on your journey. Remember, your soul wants to be here. You chose to be here and everyone has everything to live for.

; None of our life stories are over, yet.

September is Suicide Prevention and Awareness Month

Posted by fragmentedpoet on September 2, 2016

Chances are you know someone or know someone who knows someone who has been touched by suicide. You may not even be aware of it but I’m betting that this is the case.

You see – people don’t talk about it. But, they should for so many reasons and I’ve written about them here.

Please be aware of the signs. Sometimes there are no obvious signs; had I not been warned by one of my Guides, I wouldn’t have been prepared at all. As it was, Brian showed no outward signs that he was suicidal. He kept his pain very well hidden. In the end, only his ex-wife and I knew what was going on. Often it’s a very well kept secret that the person who is suffering, is embarrassed by and they’re afraid to talk about it because our Western Culture shames them and criminalizes mental illness.

Don’t be afraid to call 911 if you think someone is in danger of harming them selves.

September 10^th is World Prevention Suicide Day. I’ll be posting my future intentions as a Metaphysical Life Coach, Grief Counsellor and Healer.

Stay tuned and don’t touch that dial.

I’ve Been Blogging for 6 Years

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 17, 2016

Yes! Six!

Where, oh where, has the time gone? Now, I will admit I took a little hiatus for a year or so, but when I realized my blog name wasn’t sold (they do that when you go off of their paid plan…) I got right back to it!

Oddly (or not) I started re-blogging shortly after I met Brian. See, ‘he’ had a blog and I wondered if mine was still around. Well, low and behold (during a texting conversation, one morning) I found it!

The rest is history.

I’d like to send a warm and grateful thank you to all of my followers, commenters and like’ers. I appreciate you more than you know. It’s been a long 6-years! I’ve been through a lot of growth and some really difficult times.

Things are going to change up, pretty soon. I’ll be launching a website with my services, come next early spring, and will most likely start a new blog that’s more related to what I do. That said, I suspect I’ll still keep this one going. 🙂

Thank you, all, again. It’s been one hell of an adventure. Let’s get back on this ride called life and carry on having a blast!

Carrie~ xo

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Helping Suicide Out of the Closet

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 11, 2016

I’ve wanted to write about this for a while and I believe I’ve attempted it, many times, and in various forms. The fact is: Suicide is a problem and the biggest part of the problem is that it’s kept in the closet.

It’s not only kept their by people who have either attempted it, who are thinking about it or have successfully (and most tragically) succeeded at it. But it’s sent into the closet by everyone else. For the most part, the reason is that our culture not only doesn’t really understand this off limits subject, they don’t want to deal with it at all. I’ve personally experience this. In hushed tones, odd looks and behind closed doors – that’s where the topic of suicide lurks.

Nobody wants to fucking talk about it.

At least, not many, unless you’re exceptionally brave and have been battling it. Or…you’ve been touched by it in the worst way. Most religions not only frown upon it but many outright tell you you’ll wind up in HELL (that’s eternal damnation, fire and brimstone for those who are not familiar with this myth). In essence, if you do this, you’re a VERY BAD PERSON. No wonder people don’t seek help. They’re shamed and looked down upon.

This does nothing to help or heal those that are battling this terrible struggle. Quite the opposite, it promotes self-oppression and wrongly points a finger at someone who is deeply in pain and suffering. What element of humanity promotes the condemnation of the mentally ill, those that battle depression and those that are bullied? We do it all the time. Shame on us.

I’d like to point out there have been great strides towards recognizing mental health issues such as depression, bullying, etc., that can lead to suicide. Project Semicolon is one of them and I’m SO, SO, happy for this. It’s incredible but it’s not enough. Many are completely unaware of it and as a survivor of suicide grief, I can tell you most people (including members of my own family) still don’t get it and really don’t want to talk about it.

So. How do we get people talking about it?

This is what I’m all about. This is what part of my new life-focus will become. We need to help. We need to help those that are battling themselves and those that are in terrible sorrow and struggling with the aftermath. It’s hellish. In fact, it’s beyond hellish.

Do you know that suicide grief survivors are 10x more likely to take their own life? I betting you didn’t.

Did you know that even very young children have thoughts about suicide? Think about that…think about what would drive a 6-year old to want to take their own life.

Suicide is the 10^th leading cause of death for all ages. Yup. An estimated quarter of a million people per year, become suicide bereavement survivors just in the US.

Suicide among males is 4x higher than females but more females have suicidal thoughts and their attempts are 3x’s as often.

1 in 100,000 children aged 10-14 die from suicide every year. Did that grab your attention?

This is mostly based on US statistics but I’ll assume that Canadians are close behind based on POP variables. Now, we don’t have a lot of guns, here, and firearms are the most common method of suicide among males but that won’t stop someone who is serious about it. Trust me on this.

Here’s an interesting STAT. Suicide is the 3^rd leading cause of death in the WORLD for those aged 15-44 years. THE THIRD. In 2012, it was the second leading cause of death among 15-29 year old’s. SECOND.

Over 800,000 die due to suicide every year and that doesn’t count those that attempt it.

Yet, we don’t want to talk about it.

It’s embarrassing. It’s thought to be selfish. You’re told to ‘get over it’. Did you know that when my late boyfriend took his life, last year, I received one card of sympathy?

One. Just….one.

Thank you, Debb. I appreciated that more than you know. Now, had Brian died from cancer or had been killed in an auto accident there would have been an outpouring of support from co-workers, family, friends and whatnot. It would have been talked about and NO ONE would have told me to get over it.

But he didn’t. He quietly hung himself on a beautiful spring, May evening.

We need to talk about it.

I’m betting (and I’m not a betting woman) that there will be some who read this who’ve either thought about suicide, have been touched by it or have even attempted it. But they’ve told no one.

We need to talk about it.

This is preventable, if we educate ourselves, our children and – TALK ABOUT IT.

There is one death by suicide in this world about every 40 seconds.

For your sake, for your loved one’s sake, for all of our sake; let’s talk about it.

Please.

I will continue my plight in bringing this subject to the surface, out of the closet and out in the open.

Until then.

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Being Attached to Things

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 22, 2016

It’s most likely no coincidence that as I’m changing up my career-path to help to reflect a more compassionate and serving role as a life coach and grief counselor…that I’m finding mental illness is running in my family. I suspect that I’ll take further counseling courses along the way. It makes good sense.

I have a family member who is a hoarder. He adamantly denies this but reality and hard facts beg to differ. Moving him over the past few weeks (getting his new place prepped, etc.) has proved to be quite a challenge. Now, he’s a mild case so there are no immediate health issues or danger to him or anyone, but trying to squeeze a 4-bedroom home which consists mostly of junk into a 2-bedroom home isn’t a lot of fun.

People get frustrated, angry and even sad/upset as he insists he NEEDS all the stuff he has. One does not need left over salt and pepper packets (that are God only knows how old) from fast food orders. One does not need old cassette tapes and long dead batteries from a dead video camera age. But he really does believe he ‘needs’ them because some day he ‘may’ use them. This is a disease and a mental disorder.

In reality, we need very little to survive. Our ancestors lived in caves, hunted with hand-made tools and traveled very light in search of food. Personally, I tend to purge many of my things (give them away, recycle, etc.) when I haven’t used them in a year or two. I’m not particularly attached to much that I have and never have been. I’m a perpetual mover so I’ve gotten rid of stuff due to necessity and downsizing. A few moves ago I went from 1300 sq. ft. to just under 600 sq. ft. You can imagine I really had to give it some thought as to what I wanted to keep and what I didn’t.

People who are hoarders find it impossible to part with things that they deem as absolutely essential to their life. I saw real distress on this person’s face when being chided and then persuaded to let go of the things he really should; things that needed to be disposed of. For the most part, he couldn’t do it and flat out refused.

Before my partner and I purchase a place together – hopefully in early 2017, I plan on purging a lot of things that I: 1) don’t need 2) won’t fit in the new place and 3) I can easily do without.

What are you willing to part with and what are you not?

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Why?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 15, 2016

Some days I wonder why. Why all the violence, senseless murders, anger, fear and sociopaths filled with hate that may be the next leader of the most powerful country in the world?

What does it all mean? I think the human race, in our time, is experimenting on experiencing …

Just how bad, can or will it get before we let the light in?

They say: it is always darkest just before the Day dawneth.

I dare suspect it will grow considerably darker before humanity understands that we need to change our ways of thinking and doing on a global scale.

And then, there will be a dawn like no other but it will slip into the world so slowly and gently and with such love that it will take us a bit to realize that we’ve emerged out of one of the worst times Western Civilization has ever seen.

Hang on, it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

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Three Pounds of Brian

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 14, 2016

I wondered what was really inside the bag,
Inside the other brown paper bag all non-descript looking, even slightly humble

There it sat up high beside the poem I’d written for you, forever framed in time
Beside your picture; it looked rather out of place and lost

I removed what used to be part of YOU, in that little paper bag, placed it tenderly on the floor

I stared at it.
I walked over and touched it
I picked it up

Gently took out the contents inside clear plastic, all tightly sealed
They looked harmless enough

I saw ashes, bone fragments and I cried

I held what was once a man I loved (or part of…) and washed my face with salty tears as a plastic bag filled with YOU sat in my lap

I imagined that part of those 3 lbs. contains your heart
I imagined you’d want it that way but I know it’s all mixed up

All shoveled together into one spot to be later separated so that you were shared

I’m taking that approx. 3lbs of you home to the Island
To where I grew up and you spent endless summers on the beach with your folks

I wish we’d gone back there, being both Island people, and walked on that beach
Remembering our pasts, contemplating possible crossed paths

We’re going to make that journey, 3 lbs. of you – and all of me
It’s taken us a while, but we’ll walk that beach and share

Share a past we could have known but never did
And I’ll let you go, there; among the sand, the shells, and the Pacific Sea

Setting you free in Qualicum Beach.

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Manifestation II – Visualization

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 8, 2016

I’m not writing anything new, here. This isn’t earth shattering news but it merits repeating because 1) it works and 2) so many forget to do this. It’s easy and doesn’t take up much time. As a quick digression and on the subject of time I always hear: But I don’t have enough time to do that!!

Yes. You do. You have nothing BUT time. It’s simply a matter of what you choose to do with the time that you have.

I visualize a lot. I see/visualize money floating and falling all around me when I need extra. It usually appears before long. I want to change careers so I imagine that I’m sitting in my new home in a cozy corner with a client discussing their life plans and I’m both helping them through grief as well as assisting in designing a plan to get their life back on track.

I see it over and over again and although I have firsthand knowledge on grief, I’m not qualified. So I imagine a plaque on the wall with some sort of qualification. Low and behold, I Google online councelling courses and voila! I find an inexpensive college based in Alberta that not only offers a plethora of online councelling courses and certifications… they just happen to have a Grief and Bereavement Counselling Certification Program that I can afford and it’s at my own pace with 6 months to do it in. Yay!

See? It works. I keep stumbling into ‘just what I need’, when I need it, all because I’m manifesting change in my life and I see myself happy doing what I believe I’m meant to do.

But, Carrie, anyone can Google what you did and it stands to reason that you would.

Yes…but I Googled this many times before and nothing like this appeared. It’s only when I start really SEEING my path clearly, that the magic all starts to happen. Oh, I’m sure that web link was there, before, but I didn’t see it because it wasn’t the right time. Events happen at the right time for us and when we’re ready. I didn’t have the finances in place to pay for this course, before. Now, I know money is coming in and I can do so at the end of this month.

Makes sense?

It’s an ongoing process. It’s not a one-time deal. Keep seeing yourself doing what you want to do. Do you need a new car? See yourself driving one and make sure you’re specific, as in, see the car in your name and you having the means to pay for that car.

It doesn’t matter where the money comes from; the Universe doesn’t care. It could be from a raise, an unexpected windfall or that long lost Aunt that didn’t have a will and thus you are entitled to a few bucks. It happens. It happened to me! Really; an Aunt passed away and as her nearest relatives were her siblings and my father had long since passed on, it fell to his children. It wasn’t a lot but it certainly helped.

The key is to not limit yourself. There is free will so you can’t make your client buy but you CAN bring money into your life through other means. Keep an open mind.

Do you want a new place to live? Find a picture of a place that you really like. Print it and post it on your wall. Do you want to make six figures? Write yourself a cheque and post it on your wall. It’s a trick from ‘The Secret’. It works. It may take a while but it works.

Trust me; I did it. I did it in two years and for two years in a row, now I’ve made that and more.

Years ago I worked downtown and lived out in the burbs. I was sick and tired of commuting for 3 hours a day. So…I visualized an apartment downtown. I thought about it all the time. When I started looking, it didn’t take long to find EXACTLY what I was looking for. I wanted something close to work so I could walk. I found a place three blocks away. I wanted an older quaint place with hardwood floors. The building I lived in was built in the 1940’s, had hardwood flooring throughout and crown molding on the ceiling. It was tiny, adorable and perfect for me at the time.

Try it! I dare you.

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Manifesting Part I – Writing a Letter to the Universe

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 1, 2016

Many moons ago, my then husband had a friend named Joanne. Joanne was one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met. My ex was half convinced she was a witch (the good kind) and with wild raven tresses that fell to her waist and piercing sky-blue eyes, she looked the part. Joanne was super cool.

She was also very new age and talked a lot about energy, bringing what you want into your life and generally working with the flow of the Universe. She had a beat-up old car that she talked to and several cats.

Once, when Joanne was visiting us (she lived in another city) she started talking about writing letters to the Universe. I asked what that was and she kindly explained it to me

Joanne knew about and was practicing “The Secret” long before someone wrote a book about it. Joanne knew how things worked.

She told me that you are able to bring anything you wish into your life, simply by manifesting it. One of the easiest ways is to write out what you want.

“I call it my letter to the Universe,” she said.

She advised that I write as though the thing that I wanted (perhaps a new career or more money) was happening in the present OR the time frame in which I wanted it to occur. Keep in mind, this was about 15+ years ago… This woman was a metaphysical trailblazer.

For example: One could write that they wanted to bring in a new career in the year 2017 but one had to write as though it has already occurred.

So…

Dear Universe,

It is the first half of 2017 and I am now settling into a wonderful new career. This new job pays me xxx $$ and I have the BEST manager. I only have to commute no further than 20 min. so I am loving sleeping in!

You get the picture.

You could bring in whatever you wanted (within reason) but you needed to be very specific. Also, she warned, be careful what you ask for as you will get it.

The idea is that thoughts are energy. The Universe is energy and is also very literal. If you say: I wish I had more money, this is what you’ll get…a wish that you had more money.

If you focus on negative things like: I am so poor! Well, then, poof!! You’re so poor.

See how this works?

I’ve tested this out many, many times in my life (usually with career moves) and I will say that about 8 times out of 10 – it’s worked. That’s pretty good odds.

The thing one needs to realize is what you WANT isn’t necessarily what you NEED. So – be careful on that. Imagine winning that million bucks and then having all of your friends and family suddenly demanding their share. People you haven’t spoken to in years suddenly crawl out of the woodwork looking for handouts. It could ruin all of your relationships and create havoc in your life.

Manifesting takes practice but it does work. When I write my letter to the Universe, I also say it out loud. Joanne insisted that it HAD to be handwritten. Joanne never saw my handwriting.

So, I neatly create a word doc and rather than type it out a hundred times, I verbalize it. Words are power. Spoken words have more energy than written ones. I have no proof of this but can only go by my personal experiences. Every thought (good or bad intention) is energy you’re releasing. If you wish to handwrite yours, by all means!

Another worthy note is that this is a working document. You can change it and update it, regularly and I advise this. Life changes, your wants and needs change with it. Also, if there are any unknown factors that suddenly come to light, make sure you change things to be realistic.

One can NOT impose their will on someone else. So, no, it’s highly unlikely you’re going to marry Johnny Depp. Sorry.

I’ll get into more techniques, later. In the meantime, give this a try.

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Coming Out Ahead

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 24, 2016

It’s a constant struggle to always be ‘on top’. To be that achiever, the one who always attains. But let me ask you; who are you attaining for? It’s great to always hit your sales target and make some cash, but we all know that quotas will continue to go up and who really reaps the rewards for that?

I’ll give you a hint; it’s not you.

At some point you’ll plateau and when you’re no longer the Favourite and someone else is; being an achiever takes on a whole new meaning because all those times when you’ve missed the mark and you didn’t land at the top? All eyes will be on you but not always in a good way.

“Gee, Josh, I see you were beat out by Shelly, last month. Why do you think that is? Did you not make enough calls? Book enough appointments? Work long enough hours? You’re disappointing us, Josh, because we thought for sure you’d keep on bringing home the magic. Why not not take a look at what you’re doing wrong and see what you need to do to fix it.”

Sound familiar? I’ve had these discussions. I had one boss wait (for months, it turned out) for someone to get ahead of me in sales for North America before she had a ‘reason’ to fire me. The reason? I was selling less than everyone else.

For. One. Day. I was 2nd in sales for….a whole day. It must have just about killed her to always find me on top when she checked the sales pipeline from half way across the globe (hourly). This is what happens when people are threatened by you. You’re better off without them and they actually did you a really big favour.

Let’s take a step back, here, and pull out the stereotypical corporate scenario and really look at YOUR life. Yes, your LIFE.

Does your day job define you? Does it determine whether or not you’re a successful overall human being? Will you burst into flames if your boss shits on you for stupid little things because she’s got nothing better to do?

NO.

You are so very much more than how much you make for a corporation and how much you line the pockets of high up executives that don’t give a crap about your wellbeing.

If you can survive in the fast-paced, ever changing world of day-to-day 21^st Century (non) ethical business practices…then, my friend, you’ve come out ahead. If you haven’t had a nervous breakdown and suffered from panic attacks or become depressed because no matter how much effort you put in, you’re not getting any return, and oh BOY, you’ll be hearing about it in your weekly meeting with your boss, you’ve come out ahead.

You are here, presently, right now…in the very moment – only to fully experience yourself in this 3D Universe Nothing more. And the Universe doesn’t expect anything from you. Nope. All you gotta do is show up.

Perhaps it’s not that simply but it’s damn close.

I find it’s super easy to get caught up in all the BS and even get lost in it. Don’t make this mistake because YOU are actually in charge of YOUR life. Yes, you are.

I’m going to be writing a serious of posts on how to manifest what you need in your life and essentially how to create and design your own path. I’m currently in the midst of doing this, myself, so this will be an on-going story of how this is going. Thus far, in my life, and I can say for the past 20+ years, I’ve managed to manifest a lot of things. Some of these things turned out to be not such a good idea (more on that, later) but for the most part, I was pretty darn successful at my manifestations. *hint: just be careful what you ask for…

My life isn’t perfect but it’s what I wanted at the time I did my creating so it remains in the state in which I created it. It’s time for some really BIG changes which I’m currently working on but these things take effort and time. You can’t turn around a Cruise Ship on a dime yet once you’re on the right heading, you absolutely can come out ahead.

Stay tuned and don’t touch that dial.

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Happy Father’s Day

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 19, 2016

I recall so much of my childhood and my father; a lot of it not so good. He became an alcoholic when I was still quite young – 5 or 6-years old, I think. I could have been younger. I remember the fights my parents used to have from a very early age and my mother crying. On one occasion I had the nerve to ask what was wrong in an innocent little-girl-way. She promptly turned to me and snapped at me coldly to shut up.

That was how it was; along with me, she had a toddler (my sister), an 11-year old son (my bro) and she, herself, was probably still in her 30’s. That’s a lot to handle with financial issues and an angry husband when he was drunk.

It wasn’t always bad, though. There were fleeting happy memories and today, I want to honour them.

Here goes:

I fondly remember all the mornings that dad got up, changed my underwear (I guess I’d occasionally wet the bed at night) and me telling him about my dreams. Keep in mind I was walking and talking like a 3-year old at the tender age of 1.5 years so these memories were probably from the age of around 2 and a half. I started to walk and talk at 9 months, never engaged in the typical ‘baby-talk’ and frequently embarrassed my mother in public by saying things no 1 and a half year old should be saying. I was a freaky kid.

I once told him about a dream of alligators attacking my little bum. I think he laughed and assured me it wasn’t real but just a dream. Odd how I still remember this.

My brother is 6-years older than me and when he was getting ready for school, during the week, I’d sit and watch cartoons with dad. Rocket Robin Hood, Batman and Robin and Spiderman played one after the other on our 20” black and white TV. Dad made me cinnamon toast and snuck me a tiny cup of well creamed and sugared coffee. I LOVED the stuff. I still do.

I don’t think my mom knew he gave her 3-year old coffee. Shhh.

We were camping at Christina Lake, one summer, and I’d wandered on to the sandy beach with bare feet. It was hotter than Hades on my tiny little feet and I screamed bloody murder until he came running over like a bat out of hell and saved my tender tootsies from the lava sand. I think I was 6-years.

He used to hold us by the ankles, upside down (there is a pic of this somewhere) until we laughed so hard we nearly peed ourselves.

He LOVED cartoons more than you can imagine and always knew when the best ones were on. He’s the only dad I know who’d sit and watch cartoons with his kids and made sure they didn’t miss their favourite ones.

My dad was a HUGE Star Trek fan. It’s because of him that I love Sci-Fi and am fascinated with space.

He gave me my first (and last) 12 long-stemmed red roses, for my graduation. They came in a beautiful white box filled with white tissue. He said there was one rose in there for every year of school. I think I cried.

Fathers are the first men little girls fall in love with. They are our heros and our champions. While some dads take a wrong turn, at times, and are not always the best they can be – they still teach us many valuable lessons about love, life, forgiveness and patience.

Dad died when I was 23. He had throat and mouth cancer and it was a very painful death. I remember him lying in the hospital bed in Lac La Biche, Alberta. He weighed about 65 lbs. It was the saddest thing I’d ever seen, my once strong father – so helpless and drugged out on morphine.

All the bad things he did were forgiven and I am so, so grateful I got to be his ‘oldest’ (as he used to call me) daughter.

Thank you for all the lessons, the love and the brief life we shared, Dad

I love you. xox

H, Dad and I

Lessons I’ve Learned

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 14, 2016

About 150 years ago, okay – it is slightly less than that, when I was a teenager…I was painfully shy. I didn’t want to be but always marched to the beat of my own drum. I wasn’t a follower and I never have been.

Teenagers judge, as teens do, and I was judged to be a snob. I’m not sure how that prognoses came about but that is what was conveyed to me, years later. Had they known about the abusive, broken (and very unhappy) home I lived in, perhaps they’d have been kinder…but I doubt it. Kids can be mean no matter what the circumstances are.

“We all thought you were a snob.” I was told at my 10-year GRAD reunion. I haven’t been to one, since.

Perhaps it’s because I didn’t try very hard to ‘fit’ in to any particular group; I still don’t but people think I do. I just…be. I’m there. If you like me, cool, if not, that’s cool, too.

But you know, I USED to care. It used to bother me that I was the last one picked in gym class or for any group project. It USED to bother me that the cliquey groups talked about me behind my back and that I had all of two friends, at the time, in the entire world.

I was and am different and what I’ve learned over the years is that my difference makes me super cool to more people than I thought. I was (and am still to some degree) very sensitive and I can’t relate to people who are surface dwellers. What I mean by that is – many folks are shallow and can’t possibly understand anyone who swims in the deep end. That’s okay; difference strokes, right? Pun intended.

My point is- if you’re that young person who is shy, maybe a little depressed because of things happening at home, misunderstood, picked on, etc. I’m here to tell you that it’s all going to be okay if you don’t get caught up in the bullshit. I get it. Like Bilbo, I’ve been there and back again. In fact, I did the journey a few times. There were dragons, too!

If you believe in yourself even a little bit, you’ll make it. Know that I believe in you. I was you.

If you’re that different person, I want to tell you to celebrate! You are some of the chosen few who are able to not only swim in the deep in but live there. You’re incredibly special. These are fantastic survival techniques. Should one of the shallow-ended people be tossed into the drink where you are, they always end up drowning.

But YOU.

YOU are the survivor. You were made for this, baby!

I’m not going to tell you to NOT let things bother you because they still will. Work through it; you can do it. You’ve got this. I’m here to let you know that it’s this very process that makes you strong and teaches you that at the end of the day, you don’t need to let it bother you. Once you get that, once you lose your dependence on what others think:

Then…you will let it go.

Let it.

Go.

You’ll find at some point you don’t need it anymore and what has taken its place, well…that would be confidence coupled with a lot of humility and gratitude that you weathered the storm. Be proud, you brave and beautiful warrior.

You did it. You made it and if you’re still in the thick of it, you’re GOING to make it. I’m sure of it.Don’t doubt yourself and if you do, look in the mirror and picture yourself at 40 or 50 and see the amazing human who is living the dream in your eyes. He is there. She is waiting for you.

You are the people who are the teachers, the entrepreneurs, the givers and believers, the lovers and dreamers. You are the future of change and change is inevitable. So, keep on fighting the good fight and when someone doesn’t like you or ignores you for whatever reason. Know that it’s because they’re making room for others (the right people for you) to come into your life. Those that understand.

Like me!

Go get ‘em tiger. I’m in your corner. Dare to be different.

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A Labour of Love

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 12, 2016

It’s not easy caring for an ill pet. They can’t tell you how they’re feeling, what hurts or if it’s evident they’re in pain…where it hurts and what they want you to do about it.

For over two years, my kitty has been battling renal failure. He’s fighting the good fight and puts up with three different meds, two supplements and an injection of 100 ml of H2O, under his skin, every other day. That’s a lot for a 14-year old cat.

He takes it in stride for the most part. The subcutaneous fluids are the worst for him, initially; he’s NOT fond of the needle, but once I figured out that warming the bag of water made him feel nice, it was much easier. After it gets going and he’s recovered from the initial odd feeling of water under your skin – seriously I can’t imagine how creepy that must feel – he actually sits on my lap and purrs.

He’s always been an easygoing kitty. The most he does is verbally complain or run and hide if something displeases him. He’s never scratched, bitten or hissed at me in his life.

I have to get his blood checked every three months; he really does not like going to the vet but once he’s there, he’s exceptionally well behaved. The girls love him.

It’s costing me a small fortune; about $200/month just for meds/supplements/sub-q kits & needles and the vet visit. He’s worth every penny. Generally he’s feeling quite good. He’s happy, cuddly, plays a little, talks a lot and can still jump up to where he wants to go. He’s losing a lot of muscle mass but pills keep him eating so his weight is steady.

This can’t go on, forever, though. His kidneys are hardly functioning and at some point his other organs will begin to shut down. I watch for signs of this, very closely. I look into his big green eyes, often, and ask him to tell me when he’s had enough.

“You tell me, Zephyr…you let mommy know when it’s time and you’ve had enough, okay?”

I say these words through tears and he looks at me sweetly, blinking slowly, as if to answer:

“Not quite yet…, I’d like to stick around for a while as I’m still enjoying this life. “

So I carry on with the daily routines. The mornings are all about him and making sure he’s been eating, getting his meds into him and hydrating his furry little body.

He gets tons of love from both my man and I. The boyfriend and the cat have formed a little alliance; a male bonding team if you will, and they will often hang out on the bed together (discussing guy stuff, I’m sure) whilst I wander about doing this and that. It’s terribly cute.

Yet still, I check in, every so often, to make sure he’s not in any way, suffering. He seems content and purrs often and loudly. For now I’ll continue to keep watch and make damn sure he’s got everything he needs, is happy and knows he’s loved.

One day he won’t be here and I’m so well aware of that. Even if I believe we carry on in another form after our bodily death, I still exist in the human realm so I will miss him terribly. I know he’ll be okay and may even visit a time or two but still…there will be another large hole in my heart when I say my final good-bye and that isn’t going to be easy.

He’s a lot of work and I know some wouldn’t want to be bothered with the outlay of cash and constant attention I have to give him. I can’t travel or leave him alone for any length of time like I used to.

This is a labour of love. I don’t mind; he pays me back in snuggles, head-butts, purrs, cuddles and all the adorable things that he does.

Like roll over onto his back and expose his belly for a rub.

Changing Course

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 2, 2016

I deal with so many companies that are scary disorganized, have lower productivity due to outdated procedures or worse…no procedures at all. You can’t believe how many times I hear: that’s too big a learning curve for us, we can’t adapt to change, yes, we don’t have any standardization but we’ve been doing this for so long that it’s adequate.

Really? All you want to be is…adequate? That’s it? That’s your company goal?

You should deal with ABC Company because we’re really awesome at being adequate!

That’s pathetic. How the hell are you still managing to stay in business? I think with pure luck and by the Grace of God.

But even God gets fed up and luck runs out, eventually.

While I can make a minimal a difference as a sales gal (even if my products will help improve everything) –perhaps I’m attacking this at the wrong juncture?

It’s mindset that needs to change long before software will. One needs to start with belief and work from there. If you believe you can’t change (even if it will benefit you), you won’t. If you are scared of change, one needs only to shine a light on the darkness that you think you’re living in to show you a safe and easy route. If you’re too lazy to change,there is no hope for you and you should either retire and go fishing or go and work at some mindless job where you don’t have to think.

In essence, are you a quitter or are you a mover and shaker? Now, I don’t measure success in how much $$ you have or how many great and wonderful things you have. That is irrelevant to making a positive difference and taking yourself (or your company) from A to Z. This involves a great deal of things but mostly, it involves mindset and then commitment.

This is why I’ve decided that I really need to be trained on how to be a Life Coach. Not specifically to help companies…but to start small with individuals and build from there.

It only takes one domino to tip the point and all the others will follow. If you’re not on the right path, it’s time to change direction and adjust your headings.

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Change

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 24, 2016

For the most part, I adore change. I think that’s why I move around so much. For the longest time I thought it was because I’m not grounded, or lack stability. Neither are true. I just like to change things up.

From my experience, though, most are no like me. In fact, some people don’t do well with change at all. I have an older brother who finds it nearly paralyzing when it happens to him. He’s lived in the same home (rented) for over 20 years. It’s like he’s taken root there. It’s not the best place for him to be, in my opinion, but it’s familiar to him and it’s home. He started renting it before his daughter was born. She’s nearly 22-years old.

I used to think it’s older generations (Baby Boomers and Traditionalists) that abhor change; I would be incorrect. Plenty of Gen X and Gen Y folks hate it just as much.

It’s inevitable, though, isn’t it?

EveryTHING changes. At first it may even appear that it’s a bad thing – and sometimes it is…for us…but in the end, something had to give, flow wasn’t happening thus changes were made. Some, life and death changes.

Over the past year that has been substantial changes in me. I can’t say that I wasn’t moving towards this path but if I was hesitant, before, I’m solidly walking the walk, now. Some changes are outside of you but many are within. Most of my changes are taking place internally. It’s quite something to track.

I’m starting to feel life is more like a fun adventure rather than some jostling ride I’m stuck on for the next ‘x’ number of years. There were times when I wondered when I’d be able to get off, I know some that chose to do so prematurely; I don’t recommend it.

I believe once you fully grasp that you really DO design your own life and can attract all sorts of cool and good things, it becomes so much easier and rewarding. Then, change is just damn fun and you’re going to crave it.

“What next?! “ You’ll say.

Now, change doesn’t have to be drastic or uproot your entire life. It could be something quite simple like discovered a new route to work, or taking that course you’ve always wanted to. Or…attracting new and exciting people into your life that you can learn cool things from.

Every. Single. Time. I’ve lost or left a job, I’ve gone on to find something a whole lot better. Life is like that. Life WANTS you to be happy and there are tons of resources out there to help you to become what you were always meant to be. Most of the stuff I find online and that I learn from are free. It doesn’t have to cost you anything, this change…

In fact, a good old-fashioned change of direction can lead to all sorts of cool stuff – like prosperity.

I get that some changes, at first, can cause complete devastation and chaos in your life. That’s when you need to be kind to yourself and be reminded that there is a bigger picture and you’ll get there – it’s a process.

Take death of a loved one…or pet, for example. It’s a terrible thing but inevitable. We are all going to the Other Side at some point. And this brings changes and a crap-load of pain to go along with it. You’ll get through it; trust me on this one.

Bear with yourself. See it through and look for that silver lining because it’s there. It is…really. One day you may find another beautiful little animal soul who needs your love and care. The one you sent on may even help with that.

But the most difficult change you’ll ever have to do is change yourself or some major aspect of your life.

All change is difficult, at first, but in the end, a necessary part of our life adventures to fully embrace and experience all that this little world has to offer.

Remember to breathe. Find your courage and go along for the exquisite ride.

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I Believe

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 12, 2016

I believe in happy endings. Someone once said to me that relationships always ends badly – either with someone being hurt by ending the relationship or by someone dying.

I have an answer for that and I think it’s incorrect.

If your partner chooses to leave you – I will guarantee it’s for the best and that there is something or someone BETTER waiting for you. Thus, a new beginning and not really an ending at all. Think of it as a road trip where you turned right instead of left, got lost for a bit, but found your way back onto the right path. Whew!

When we ‘die’ only our body does…so we WILL see each other again in spirit. See? Not an ending at all…just a little vacation, Earthside. It’s just that one of you went home early and the other chose to stick around for a bit before packing it in and heading back.

There are no endings. Only a continuous circle. It’s our Ego that sees things ‘ending’, not our Spirit. Let’s not confuse the two. We are eternal beings. The word eternal means: without beginning or end. We always were and always will be. We come from Source (or GOD). We are part of – belonging to and attached to Source. Think of us as cells in a body, individual but could not exist without it.

Life, here, is what you make it so you may as well make a difference while being the best human you can be. From this comes happy endings.

Remember that.

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The One That Got Away

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 11, 2016

One of Brian’s guilty pleasures was bubblegum pop music. He had a soft spot for Taylor Swift. Not a crush, mind you, but somehow he related…he was ever a young spirit.

I have no idea if he liked Katy Perry but I’m sure he’ll appreciate the sentiment.

This one is for you, Brian Norman Caffelle. Today I remember, today I honour YOU.

In another life; we’ll try this again. I’m looking forward to it. XO

Surrender

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 10, 2016

sur·ren·der

səˈrendər/
verb
1. cease resistance to an enemy or opponent and submit to their authority.

noun

2. the action of surrendering; capitulation, submission, yielding, succumbing, fall, defeat, resignation

I’m going to add another meaning to this word: To let be.

I feel that we can surrender to many things, but in a good way. It needn’t involve things like: submission, defeat, resignation or giving up. In fact, quite the opposite can be true. Surrendering can simple become – ‘you’ in the moment, letting yourself simply ‘be’ and letting go of everything negative to clear the way so that you can create a new path for yourself.

Just over a week ago, I was in a near head-on car collision. To be honest, if you’d seen my car (or what’s left of it) you’d think I’d be a lot more injured than I am or…not be here writing this. The doctor who saw me, after seeing a pic of my car, said I was lucky to be alive.

But I am alive and after I collected myself, made sure the other driver was okay, I surrendered to the moment and let it unfold, as it should. I didn’t cry, or panic or get upset. I didn’t see a purpose in that. Yes, I was in shock, but even then, decided to let go of all the feelings I think should have been feeling and remain very calm. I knew it wasn’t entirely my fault and also knew that I couldn’t have anticipated the other driver’s quick decision to change lanes when he did.

However, things with insurance companies are very black and white – so I will be found 100% at fault. I was, after all, turning left. I guess that’s a bad thing…to turn left. 😉

That’s fine. I accept it and surrender to it and do you know what? It feels okay. I feel okay. I bought a new car; I’ll be able to pay it off, soon, and life goes on.

Tomorrow is a tough day; an anniversary of sorts. It will be one year since Bri took his life and I’m not quite sure how I’m going to be, emotionally, so I’m taking the day off.

I’ve decided to surrender to all of my emotions and just let it all flow through me throughout the day. Normally I can’t do this as I’m in an office dealing with clients or home and if ‘P’ is there, I don’t want to burden him with my ‘stuff’. He doesn’t understand it and doesn’t pretend that he does…so he’s quiet about it and keeps his nose out of my grief.

Not because he’s unsympathetic but because he simply hasn’t been through anything like it – EVER. He’s had a pretty easy life, thus far.

I also don’t want him to feel unimportant in my life and talk about Brian 24/7 – that would be unkind, disrespectful and unfair. My past is my past and P is my now and hopefully my future.

I’ll be okay. There will be much meditating and stillness as I sort through memories both good and bad. I will honor him and all those who have this pain and struggle.

I will surrender to this day and to what happened. I cannot change it but I can accept it and see it for the incredible life-changing experience that it was.

What will you surrender to?

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What Are We Really Here to Do?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 5, 2016

I’m supposed to be working. I’m supposed to be working and selling but I simply can’t get into it.

In a week, last year, my beloved boyfriend took his life and I simply can’t get past that until I get ‘past’ May 11^th. It will happen, I’m sure.

A few days ago, I totaled my car. I was turning left on a very busy intersection and a large pick-up truck changed lanes, as I was turning and…WHAMO! A near head on collision that spun my little red Yaris hatchback around so violently that I was now facing the opposite direction.

I am more or less okay; Scarlett (my little red Yaris) isn’t. My first inclination after moaning because I was in a bit of pain and shock, was to want to move my car out of the way so that I didn’t cause issues in traffic. There I was, wondering just how the hell it all happened and I was worried I was ‘in the way’ of other people.

I started my car (not knowing the real damage, yet) and it started, alright, but made a terrible thumping noise and I smelled smoke. Not good.

Shortly thereafter the driver of the truck rushed out to see if I was okay. Both this young man and his truck fared a hell of a lot better than me. I tried the passenger door because it looked a little dented – but have no idea why I would bother with this. It was stuck. I climbed out of the proper door, said I was alright and then realized just what a mess I was in.

After all of this, I got to thinking; what am I here to do? What gives? What’s the deal?

Then I realized I’m not here to ‘do’ anything. I’m here to BE. That’s all that is required of me.

Just BE. Be myself, be anything I want to be but BE in the moment and understand it’s the experience of that which matters. BE a decent human being, BE loving, BE giving, BE the best damn person I can be.

Simple.

I’ve been putting my life (or trying to) back together since last year and maybe it’s not meant to go back. Maybe it’s meant to be a little scattered around for the time being until it morphs into something completely different. Perhaps I should BE more focused on the here and now rather than on that terrible thing that happened last year.

Oddly, this was one of the many issues that Brian struggled with. He simply couldn’t stop ‘doing’ (mostly trying to understand why his ex-girlfriend walked out on him) and simple ‘be’ – be with me…be with life and be with himself, most of all.

There are so many lessons I’m learning on this journey. I dare say I’m not even close to being finished.

justbe

What do you see?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 1, 2016

11 days.

I seem to have begun a countdown to that tragic day, a year ago, when that really bad thing happened.

I’m not sure why I’m doing it but part of me wishes I wouldn’t torture myself with it. Yet…here I am, being some sort of masochist – reliving every moment.

I asked him, once: What did he see when he looked at me?

This was during his time in the PAU (psychiatric assessment unit) and all he could think about was “Her” – the woman who crushed his heart, the one from whom the only escape from pain, he believed, was death.

He looked at me completely dumbfounded and stuttered, shaking his head as he stared in disbelief at my question.

I wanted to know just what I meant to him at that point because here I was giving 1000% of myself to someone who was still lost in another relationship from his past. The woman in question was ignoring him and really didn’t want anything to do with him. Had she, I suspect I may have been tossed aside, but I can’t confirm that for sure.

I was feeling like quite the third wheel, yet I was also very much in love and trying with all my might to save this man’s life. I wasn’t about to abandon him and I swore to him that I’d never leave him during what would be the worst time in his life.

I kept that promise.

He could never tell me what he saw when he looked at me and I’m convinced he never really saw me for who I was or realized just what I had to offer. I think on the last day he may have had an idea but it wasn’t enough to keep him here.

I’m not complaining because I understand he was coming from a place of complete darkness and depression. His headspace wasn’t like anything a normal person would understand. His perception of the world was so skewed that I’m not even sure he was functioning to full capacity even though he put on an amazingly brave facade.

He was lost, and for him, there was no way out of the labyrinth he’d built for himself. There was simply no escape and seeing her – yet again, was a sign for him that his pain was never going to end unless he ENDED it.

So, he did.

I’m not angry at him for not seeing me as he was seeing everything through eyes that were not seeing the world as it truly was.

Mental illness is so very misunderstood. It is so often unnoticed and swept under the carpet. There are those that live and function with it for years without anyone knowing any better. This is what he did. He kept it all on the down-low; nobody really knew. Even when it became very evident something was very, very wrong, it was only the two of us that he let in on his little secret.

So…what do you see when you look at someone? Are you really seeing them for who they are, their struggles and pain?

Look again. Look more closely. You may find they’re living in a dark jungle of half truths and terrible secrets. They do this because society is harsh. They are judged, ridiculed and not taken seriously.

It’s time we really looked at ourselves and the ones we love, a little more clearly.

It’s time we were aware that too many suffer alone.

Eye in the Jungle

Your Watch

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 27, 2016

Time. Time we didn’t get, all caught up in and
dragged through those months of hell

For you,

Time was running out.

For you, I would have walked on fire but there wasn’t enough
Time.

Time to change your mind, time to kiss you once more, to hold you close

Time.

It passes with the hands on your watch; the one I wear with your initials
so worn and faint on the back, my wrist from your wrist

Your soft flesh are ashes in a box on a shelf and I want to scream

Time. Time to remember, to release, to forgive.
Time.

I will keep your watch ticking, polish its black face, wear it often.
I will remember you in better days, your laugh, that smile, those eyes

I will honour your struggle through my words, my tears and your story
Time. There is never enough.

I wasn’t finished knowing you.

This Day, Last Year.

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 25, 2016

One year ago to the day, Tara and I sat with Brian at the VGH Emergency check in for about 7-8 hours to have him committed to the PAU (Psychiatric Assessment Unit). For five days he was locked in there. It was a Saturday. The Friday night, before, he’d set up everything to end his life. He’d had a last meal; his fav…bacon & eggs and chocolate cake. He’d left a note on the door, had changed his will and left a note for Tara. Everything was in order.

At the last minute, due to the constant texting and calling of Tara and I – he called her and said through tears: “Guess what I’m doing?”

This was his rock bottom for the second time in less than half a year. This was his spiral downward to the bottomless pit of doom that he’s created for himself. So, we checked him in. They took hours and hours but finally committed him, took all of his treasures away (clothes, iPhone, wallet, money, keys…) and gave it to us to look after.

I can’t even begin to imagine his embarrassment and humiliation but we stood by him and took shifts in visiting him; Tara by day, me by evening.

It kept him alive for an extra two weeks as he struggled to cope and did his best to recover.

We brought him fresh things to wear under the prison-like PJ’s (he jokingly called them his crazy clothes), food, coke, things to read and I even brought his little chess set and we played a bit when I was there. I still have that chess set of his.

Half way through, he was moved out and up to another ward which meant they felt he was doing better. He even chatted up a few others there and made some unlikely short-term friends. Well…sort of.

He didn’t like the food, much, so we made sure he had plenty of the things he loved; juice, coke, chocolate, I bought him dinner several nights in a row. I remember he was bored out of his skull because they didn’t allow his cell phone, there, so he went through several books.

I’ll never forget it. The weather was summer-like. Parking there wasn’t as bad as I’d thought and it was very close to where he’d lived. There have been times when I’ve had to drive by the area and felt such anxiety over the memories. I try and avoid VGH if I can.

I was helpless. Nothing I did really made much difference, at least…I don’t think it did. All I could do was love him, keep the Beacon of Hope lit, be there for him, spend time with him, bring him whatever he wanted and was allowed to have in there.

He was on a few anxiety drugs and anti-depressants. They didn’t do him any good at all. They made him jittery and he was as fearful as ever.

I don’t think I ever loved him so much. I was so proud that he fought so hard to keep it together. I can’t imagine what he went through. I don’t think I’d have done half as well had it been me. His struggle sucked up so much of his energy and when I saw him he looked like a little boy; fragile and wide-eyed, timid yet sweet and soft spoken.

He was so scared; so were we.

This past month has been one big lead up to the day he took his life and my emotions are so raw. I can recall so much of those 5 days but the next 6 months after May 11^th is a complete blur. I do recall going to Australia for two weeks but that’s about it.

At the end of all of this, we still have to go on. We still look to thrive and must find some light at the end of our own dark tunnel.

I imagine what it’s like on the other side. I imagine it being so filled with beauty and light.

My newness to digital art makes my fractal creations somewhat primitive compared to those that actually know what they’re doing. I manipulate them and blend them in Photoshop to resemble things I can relate to as best I can. I ‘think’ I’m getting better and hope that I am.

I imagine I’d like to have a tree of light, over there; one where he and I could sit and talk and work things out. There’s so much I long to understand. Even just to tell him, in person, how much I miss him…

tree_of_light_by_fragmented_poet-da076sd

Pretty Things

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 23, 2016

Like most girls, I like pretty things; soft colours, quiet moments and seashells on the back of the toilet.

I think everyone knows that’s where they go. I don’t have any seashells there, presently, but I used to. It’s a chick thing; ask anyone.

When I discovered fractals, I viewed some beautiful work. I am not even close to being able to create anything like what I’ve seen, but it’s great fun to do. The BF says I’m addicted. I mention that if this is so, I could be addicted to a lot worse things. He agrees.

Think summer; think a gentle hot breeze sending dandelion seeds drifting into the hazy air in mid afternoon. Think flowers in full bloom and the scent of fresh cut grass that lingers in the air. Ice cream. Think ice cream melting down your chin as you glisten in the early evening sun. See the soft glow hanging over the sea; listen…you can hear the waves if you try real hard.

Think English gardens trimmed to perfection with deep coloured roses and perfumed petals that feel like velvet between your fingers.

Think butterflies dancing their slow, almost drunk, waltz to the music of the earth only they can hear.

Flutter Bye

What is this cosmic stuff you speak of?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 19, 2016

I want to get physical with you.

As in metaphysical. In fact, bring on some downright funky, cool, cosmic shit. Are you ready? Are you sure? But please know that if you roll your eyes, sigh, shake your head or think generally negative thoughts around what I share… that’s your business.

Really. You’re entitled to your opinion and I’m entitled to share on my blog. We’ll just leave it at that.

I’m an Intuitive. Yes, with a CAP ‘I’. I hate the word psychic as it conjures (pun intended) up all sorts of silly images with gypsies hovering over a crystal ball in a dark room tell you your fortune.

I don’t do any of that.

Well…I have several crystal balls but that’s because they look pretty.

I’ve been Intuitive since I can remember but haven’t really told a whole lot of people. As you can imagine it’s a little weird. Not only that; if you’re trying to be honest and ‘share’ you often get ridiculed, laughed at, etc.

But it’s 2016, people. There are lots and lots of folks who do what I do and to be frank, we all have the ability. It’s whether or not you choose this path that makes all the difference.

One of the lovely things I get to do is communicate with Spirit, or the spirit world, if you wish. I don’t know what you want to call it and it really doesn’t matter. It’s just a name.

You know, when people pass over, they will very often go to great lengths to tell you they’re okay and they made it! They know you’re in a world of hurt and they LOVE you, so it’s only natural that they’d want you do know they are well and you know…kinda still around.

Not in the physical sense but Bob is still BOB and he’s cool with the whole afterlife thing (even if Bob didn’t believe there was one). And Bob is really upset that you’re upset! So, Bob will often try and send you signs that he’s still looking out for you, still thinking about you, still loves you and still checkin’ in.

One of the people I talk to frequently is the man I was so very in love with that took his life almost one year ago. That terrible day is fast approaching and don’t think it’s hasn’t been on my mind for the past two months.

I hear him, a lot. But to be fair, I’m somewhat of a skeptical gal so naturally I want proof. I want proof that Carrie isn’t losing her mind and hearing voices in her head because…that’s when we need to check ourselves in and have our ‘head’ examined.

So I ask: if this is really you, prove it. I need to know I’m not crazy.

I asked for something very specific. I wanted to hear a specific song on the radio that has long since worn out its popularity but occasionally, it comes on. It was one of his favourites. I waited. And I waited.

And…I waited some more and…

…nothing.

Now, whenever I really want to see a sign from him, it always happens when I’m not expecting it and this was no exception. I think it must be a cosmic rule that for the most part I have to wait until he’s darn good and ready. Or, maybe that’s just his rule?

Okay. I can do that.

So, I’m driving to work, and having my usual downtrodden thoughts of how much I put into our relationship all the while watching him pine over his ex-girlfriend and how much that hurt…blah, blah…poor little me, blah, blah.

Sometimes you just have to feel a bit sorry for yourself and then get OVER yourself. It’s a process. I’m human, after all and I struggle with what happened, every day.

Then out of the blue, as I’m in bumper to bumper traffic, I look up at the car I’m behind just as the song I’ve been waiting to play (for weeks) comes on, and I notice that on the dealer license plate, it has the name:

Brian.

Seriously.

It just doesn’t get any clearer than that. I laughed loud and wanted to do a little happy dance but traffic was moving again. 🙂 Instead I thanked him and was happy all the way to work.

Most of us have someone dear to us that we very much miss on the ‘other side’. Ask them for a sign. Be specific. Don’t think it will happen instantly (although sometimes it does!) just be ready and when it does happen – pay attention and be grateful for the communication. They LOVE it when they get through to us just as much as we love it when they send us messages…and of course, their love.

“If anyone asks, we never had this conversation.”

Fragmented

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 10, 2016

For most of my life, I’ve felt separate and different. So much so that it’s as if there are bits of me scattered all about and occasionally I manage to come together to make life work.

My passions are all over the place. I’ve worked in technology for years in the company of minds that are logical, centered, pragmatic and very focused. Then there’s me…bringing these people together to convey complex information to likeminded others so that business can be done.

Professional Engineers, Mechanical & Electrical Engineers, Geologists, and Mining Engineers…the list goes on. I’d be lying if I said I can relate but to some extent, I do understand. At least, the big picture.

That’s how I work, I connect the pieces of puzzles together to convey the larger aspects of what it is that we want to accomplish. But that’s not really me…those technical brains don’t work the same way mine does. I barely understand the technology that I sell, so I rely on my technical peeps to help out. That’s their job, mine …is to make the magic happen.

All that being said, I LOVE and adore technology! I kind of get how it’s made and how it all works but only on a very high level.

But still, this isn’t really me. I’d much rather dabble in the arts. I’d much rather write poems/stories, take pictures, make cool fractals and meditate. An energy healer and intuitive – these things are also part of my make-up.

And…I also sing. Oddly enough, this is what I paid lots of money in college to learn how to do. Ha! I’m told I’m pretty good at it but it’s not where I make my living and my boyfriend doesn’t always appreciate me serenading him. My cat…hates it.

I think there is opportunity to find myself and possibly un-fragment who I need to be in this world but it’s going to take time, patience and belief on my part.

Sometimes I feel like a Picasso painting – all over the place and rather random, but also interestingly put together, different, and possibly worth getting to know.

Or not…

Picasso and I are not everyone’s cup of tea. 😉

Either way, it’s who I’m claiming as the real ME. I’m okay with it. I’m cool with not fitting in or being part of the norm. In fact, I rather like it. All the really neat people are sitting on the fringe. Not that engineers are not ‘neat’; in fact, they’re super cool. They are just part of a different fringe. I think there are many.

It takes our differences to make the world go ‘round. But it’s our likenesses that allow us to coalesce. We all have some commonalities that connect us. Just like a Picasso – different, yet connected.

**note that I’m not comparing my fragile attempts at fractals to Picasso! Just that this particular one reminded me of his work.

Moonlit Picasso

I’ll See You in the Afterlife

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 8, 2016

I believe in life after life. Or…life before life (depending on how you look at it). Some say that the ‘afterlife’ is our true home and our 3D Earth plane is simply a place to experience things we can’t as well as learn and grow.

I don’t have all the answers. I can only say what resonates with me. Sometimes in the chaos of grief and death, we find beauty and inspiration.

This is for you, Bri.

Afterlife

Welcome to My Garden

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 7, 2016

I imagine the fey playing round in soft swirls of light; a dance among spring petals and fresh-smelling, warm earth.

Let your imagination move a little. Hell, let it FLY and soar into unknown and uncharted air waves and celestial vibrations. Stop and listen for a while. Turn off your daily thoughts of business, coffee, that meeting you’re late for and taking the kids to their soccer practices and…

Just…breathe.

One inhale and exhale at a time.

Take a little ‘me’ time and indulge your senses with playful spirits, faeries, gnomes and elves. Believe (if only for a few moments) that ANYthing is possible.

Go on. I dare ya.

Paint the Gardens

Digital Art

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 3, 2016

I’m getting hooked on fractals and trying my hand at a little digital art.

To be honest, I think I totally suck at it but…I’m having fun, damn it, and that’s what counts.

I’m gonna share. Cover your eyes if you’re not into space scenes.

nebula

Dealing With an Elderly Parent

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 1, 2016

Or…in my case, helping my 80-year old mother hook up with a new man by setting her up on a senior’s dating site.

Yup. You read that right. Just because you’re in your twilight years doesn’t mean you don’t get lonely, from time-to-time. My mother gave birth to three kids; I’m the much talked about middle child. And from three offspring only one grandchild sprung forth. Thank you, big Bro for that! As soon as she was born (my niece) I was off the hook!

She’s now nearing 22-years old, lives in Berlin and Nana doesn’t really get to see her a lot. You get the picture.

We DO visit mom, occasionally…but hey, we all have our own lives. I check in regularly and joke about making sure she’s still alive (as in not lying dead on the kitchen floor of a sudden heart attack). Thankfully, she finds this humorous and I’m kidding, but only half kidding.

When you’re 80, anything can happen!

Although I may not be the doting daughter, I do love her dearly and we chat/text on a regular basis. We were never super-duper close but we have an understanding. Also, I’m always available, so when she can’t get a hold of the other two, I’ll always answer her calls or call her back shortly thereafter. The irony that I’m last on her list of calls but the only one who is always available (and reliable) isn’t lost on me, either.

It’s okay, I’m over it. Mostly. Really. *cue my big brother to chime in about me and my middle child issues*

Anyway. I’ve found what looks to be a respectable site (Our Time) and now I have to load pics for her. Once she’s all up and running and getting much wanted emails from suitors, I’ll have to have THE talk with her. She won’t want THE talk. She’ll be snippy and shitty about it, being all insulted that I think she’s stupid, etc., but I’ll have THE talk, nevertheless. I’m bracing myself for the inevitable push-back and arguments I’ll get from her.

She’s already been taken (not financially, thank GAWD) by a scammer on Facebook so I think THE talk is relevant.

And really, this goes for every woman out there who is online dating, not just my vivacious Mother.

Don’t bother with anyone who isn’t local.
This is how to spot a scammer: (list all obvious traits).
Always, ALWAYS meet someone in a public place.
NEVER give out your phone number first – let them provide theirs and when you do give a phone number, DON’T give out your home one, give them your cell #. That way if they’re a creep, you can easily block them and they can’t look you up on 411 to get your address, etc.
Find out their full name before you meet them – do a little internet research to see if they’re real and who they say they are. No, this isn’t cyber stalking, it’s necessary homework to keep you safe.
Let your daughters know (or your son, pick one of us) when you’re going on a blind date – when/time, who it is….etc. Call us when you get home! If you don’t we’ll worry sick about you.

I don’t want to cramp her style, by any means, but my younger sis used to make me text her the license plate # of the guy who I was meeting in case I went missing… I wasn’t pissy about it, I thought it was cute and hey, you can’t be too safe.

An 80-year old woman is much more vulnerable than a 50-year old one. And, she’s my mom; I take no chances.

71605

Laughter and the Disturbance Of

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 27, 2016

My mother sent me an email that I found (in the moment) hysterically funny. Sitting next to the New Man, I burst out laughing and rather loudly at that. He got pissed off and annoyed at me disturbing his serenity as God forbid I make a noise.

I suspect he’s in a pissy mood and I suppose my sudden cackle would shock anyone but hey…not like I intended to care the crap out of him by laughing out loud. The heinous noise was but a few seconds of disrespecting the quiet but he definitely wasn’t impressed. Now, had I planned to be LOUD, I’d have apologized but the burst of chuckles simply escaped me. There was really nothing I could do about it.

Given that I’ve spent the last nearly 11 months crying daily over Brian’s death, I think I’ll forgive myself for this terrible act.

Plus…it’s MY apartment. I can do as I please.

So there.

9be8891c1c786440681e891aaf0fa3ec

Tell Me What You’re Feeling

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 23, 2016

I had a little tiff with the New Man, this morning. He does something that bothers me and I’m not sure how to deal with it or… if he’s willing to adjust. It’s a minor thing but when something bothers us, we should be able to talk about it in a kind/non-accusing way without repercussion. We’re adults who are in love, after all.

So, I mentioned it in the kindest way but said…’this bothers me’ and maybe we can (insert solution here). His response was that what he was doing was perfectly OK, as in…he didn’t see anything wrong with it and BTW, maybe I’d like him to leave and not come back.

O.o

WRONG ANSWER.

In fact, VERY wrong answer. I was quite taken aback and couldn’t speak for a few moments. Being the sensitive Pisces that he is, he caught on immediately that this may not have been a wise move and insisted on finding out if I was ‘mad at him’ and wanted to discuss it right then and there. I wasn’t angry, but I was extremely hurt.

He essentially did a 360 degree turn and I’m sure his thoughts were: Oh, shit, I really shouldn’t have said that.

I do believe that my reaction would have been very different had I NOT been dealing with menopausal hot flashes all night and my late boyfriend had NOT killed himself over another woman not quite 11 months ago. I think I would have stood my ground and asked quite bluntly: if this is what he wanted and why would he resort so such extreme measures?

But that’s not how it went down. I was caught up in serious emotions of unworthiness and abandonment. I promptly burst into tears at the thought of, once again, not being good enough or mattering enough to someone. In my miserable little mind, my reasoning was that if it only takes this little thing to have someone threaten to leave me, I must not mean very much to them and this takes me all the way back in time to the initial issue of my father leaving us. Fun stuff, eh?

Of course, this isn’t how he really feels and as we sometimes do, we over react and say mean things we really shouldn’t because we don’t like the thought of having to change our ways to make someone else comfortable. Whoops, filter wasn’t on between my brain and my mouth – sorry about that.

It’s not something insurmountable by any means and I don’t want someone to think I’m trying to tell them what to do…but if we’re bothered by something, if we don’t speak up in a polite and loving way, it will fester and grow into resentment. Trust me on this one.

We resolved the situation quickly before it had a chance to get out of hand and everything is well. He also promised to never say that again. My ex-husband used to point to the door every time I wanted to discuss issues and yell: If you don’t like it, there’s the door!!

Oh, hello door! Let me show you how I can open you and walk out of this situation!

And, I did – much to his shock, but that’s another story. 😉

So tell me, what are YOU feeling? Do you have a problem expressing yourself in your relationship when something is bothering you? Are you met with resistance or are you able to talk things out with relative ease?

Curious minds want to know.

rawr__by_musingcalliope-d8bxapv

Brian’s Blog

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 21, 2016

I realized that as Bri is no longer with us…he wouldn’t be updating his WordPress account and thus…it’s changed back to a free account.

I’ve linked a few posts to his site and you can’t access them as they are.

So…

If you’re curious about the late, great Bri, this is his blog: https://tradervancouver.wordpress.com/

He was a very talented (genius, I’m told) trend trader as well as a loving p/t dad to a fur kid named: Baxter the basset hound. He was also a plumber, incredible friend, much loved boy-friend and mentor to many.

As well, he was quite the talented writer (one of the many reasons I was crazy about him).

Happy reading. 🙂

Brian with his two favourite things, a cigar and a glass of scotch.

A Funny Thing Happened in Life, Today…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 18, 2016

I’m on a work conference call and I usually dial in via my laptop. I always, always, always check to make sure that the mic is on MUTE. As it turns out, the ‘mute’ click didn’t work. This, despite me double and triple checking. It simply wasn’t going to comply – but, I honestly thought it did!

That dirty rotten mic scoundrel. And, just my luck, too.

Everything is going along fine and I’m not saying or doing anything so I don’t notice and neither do the other 50 people on the call.

That is…until…

My phone rings.

I promptly put mute my laptop speakers (THEY are working just fine, thank you very much) and carry on with my call. I ‘could’ have disengaged from the conference call with work (and really I would have missed nothing) but I didn’t. What we SHOULD have done and actually DID, in life, often give us all sorts of insight into why we do or don’t do things.

Anyway. I fucked up and didn’t log off when I should have and because my speakers were muted just fine, I didn’t hear the screaming and yelling from the speakers telling me to hang the hell up.

Damn it.

Seconds later, when the call ends, my boss’s boss chides me like a naughty 5^th grader and all I can do in my head is wonder how the hell the mic didn’t mute when I was SOOOO sure that it did. Really, he was pissed and all I can think of is: I’m SURE I muted it, how could this happen?

He went on and on and I think he may have thought I was lying. I’m not sure what that would have accomplished as why wouldn’t I mute my mic?

“It was very disruptive.” he says.

“Yes,” I thought… “I bet it was!”

I can imagine there were a lot of pissed off people for approx. 5 min of today. I can imagine that had ‘I’ been on that call, I would have wanted to reach out and slap that person! But hey…now I’ll be much more understanding. I’m sure this is my lesson. I’d have rolled my eyes at ‘me’ …had I not been ME and didn’t realize what was going on.

Even though I’d apologized 3 x (4 in total) at one point, the Big Boss still felt he needed to drive his point home. I’m not sure what that point was because once I realized this error, you can bet your bottom dollar it’s NEVER going to EVER happen again. I can see if I were a repeat offender but I’m not.

As well, can we do anything about it now? No. Just tell me what happened so that I don’t make this mistake again. I get it, it wasn’t a good thing but it wasn’t horrible, either. I didn’t shoot anyone – I made a human error.

Bawling me out isn’t going to make one bit of difference because he knows I’m already embarrassed and seeing as I apologized many times, he knows I’m regretful.

Then (after the FORTH apology) he says….have a great rest of your day. I told him seeing as I wasn’t going to be on any further WebEx conference calls, I suspected that I would. I don’t think he found that funny…

So yeah, THAT happened.

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Advice on Grief

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 16, 2016

I’ve blogged about the loss of my late boyfriend, Brian, a lot. But, I haven’t really addressed what it’s like, personally, going through something this life changing in a lot of detail.

Or, if I did, I don’t remember being as this specific about how it affects someone on a daily basis.

This whole suicide grief thing is new to me. I’ve never been through anything like this in my entire life.

Thank GOD for that. I don’t think I could handle it more than once. I don’t know how anyone could, yet people do.

Let me just start by saying it’s a thing you have to deal with, every day, and sometimes many times a day. At first, it’s a constant wave of horror, guilt, unimaginable sadness, disbelief and shock. Then, as time somehow moves along (for us it stands still) the waves start coming at different and varied intervals.

It’s going on 11 months and no…it definitely doesn’t end, here. Most people think you should be over it by now. I mean…haven’t I moved on with my love life? Yes, I have. It doesn’t matter. The pain is still there. The questions, hurt, guilt and every other emotion that is associated with this tragedy is STILL THERE.

It doesn’t go away like magic but, it does fade a little bit. 11 months isn’t really that much time and I’ll tell you that there are moments when it seems like it all happened, yesterday. It’s just that raw and fresh in my head and heart.

I hear and have read that it’s pretty much this way with everyone that has the unfortunate task of wading through this life event. It’s complex grief and often you have such a mix of emotions that it threatens to tear apart the very fabric of your sanity.

I get angry, often, with him. Then, I feel guilty. After that, there is extreme sadness. Sometimes, it’s all around the confusion of the whole mess he was in and I pick apart every minute detail of whatever I can remember during the time when he first saw his ex-girlfriend while going for an innocent walk around Granville Island… and right up until the time I last said good-bye to his very dead self, lying on his bedroom floor with a breathing tube still taped to his mouth and rope burns around his neck.

I comb through all of his texts and emails looking for answers. There are none. I try and see how it could have gotten so bad so quickly but there was no way of predicting he’d really do it after he came out of the hospital and was seemingly doing well.

Not a day goes by that I don’t tear up, my throat constricting in some awful manner making it painful to swallow and breathe. It’s usually while I’m driving to and from work. I think these are my ‘alone’ times so I allow myself to grieve.

There are few precious days where I DON’T cry. Those were busy days and it’s usually when I’m not by myself. I think we push the overflow of emotions away until we feel safe to face them.

Do you stop loving a lover because they’re dead?

The answer is no. It’s also a complicated ‘no’ because I think I’ll always be a little ‘in love’ with him and I’m okay with that. It’s the possibilities that I’ll never see, the future I’ll never realize, that I’m in love with. It’s all of the wonder in a new and budding romance that was cut very short in a violent way. All of these dreams are still with me and I play them like a short movie in my head, stopping now and then to examine every frame of: what might have been.

The -I love you’s- he will never say, the adventures we’ll never go on, the creative endeavors that we started but will never be completed…these are the things I still covet in my heart. This is our story that will never play out. This is why my tears are so many.

For everyone who has lost someone we know and loved/cared about, to suicide, we play it back in our heads over and over and over. We don’t ‘get on with life’ in the same way. We can’t. It’s simply impossible.

We learn to live with the pain and the questions. We deal with the guilt and the lost years with them we will never see in this life. All of us will suffer through it until it is our time to leave this world.

In years to come, I hope that Brian isn’t on my mind all day long, every day. And if he is, I hope that it’s in a very different way. I hope to heal from this.

When do we heal? That’s an individual thing and there simply is no time limit. It will happen if and when it does. It’s as simple as that.

If I mention Brian’s name to family, it’s in passing and very infrequent. I can tell they’re tired of hearing about it. It’s only my very good friends and those who were involved and knew him that I still talk about ‘stuff’, with.

Those that are deep in suicide grief often deal with this; people simply don’t understand and the fact that this is soooooo taboo doesn’t help us. No one wants to talk about it. The worst is when they say hurtful things. This doesn’t help us and in fact, calling someone who completed suicide ‘selfish’, is not only callus but incredibly insensitive.

If you know someone who is going through any kind of grief – give them as much time as they require. It may take a lifetime so be prepared for that. Be kind and gentle. If you don’t know what to say, don’t say anything; listen instead. Most times that’s all we’re looking for.

Talk to your loved ones about depression, mental health and what suicide is. It’s the misunderstandings and fear around it that make it worse. Educate yourself and then educate others. Talk to your children about death. They will be dealing with it in some form or fashion at some point and being prepared always helps.

Understand that it’s more real than you think and it takes only seconds to change your life, forever.

Understand that those left behind are struggling and are 10 x more susceptible to suicide, themselves.

As with all people suffering in grief, little things set us off. For me, it’s songs that I liked when I was with him, songs that I associated with that time and that remind me of him.

With others it may be smells, places, certain times of the year of anniversaries (birthdays) and such. I will tell you that when we’re hurting, we often live in our own little private hell that we simply can’t share with others. It’s just the way it is.

Be respectful. We don’t want to hear your empty platitudes; they are meaningless to us. We don’t want religion shoved down our throats if we’re not religious and suicide is NOT a sin. It is a choice some people choose and it doesn’t matter if you think it’s right or wrong or somewhere in-between. We don’t care about your beliefs, we only care that someone we loved died and it’s killing us a little, each day, to be without them.

It happens. It’s real and it’s devastating.

This is grief. Our hearts are broken and mending them will take one hell of a lot of love, understanding and patience.

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Dreams

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 10, 2016

We all dream whether we remember our dreams or not. Some dreams are silly and evidence of our minds re-enacting our daily worries, happenings and whatnot. They may be mundane work dreams or they may be twisted work dreams with all sorts of past jobs, managers and a piece of spacecraft debris (direct and still burning hot from outer space), thrown in…just for fun, mind you.

I tend to have the latter dreams. The ones where you wake up and think: WTF was THAT all about?!

I’ve had repetitive dreams that make me wonder if there’s a message in there, somewhere, and I’m meant to interpret it. I’ve had dreams so vivid, I’ve woken up and not remembered who I was or where I was for a split second. Then, of course, it all comes rushing back to me.

Oh, yeah…this is who I am and damn it, I gotta get my ass outta bed and get ready for work.

But for a little bit, I was someone else, living a very different life and it felt very real. I’m about to get all Vanilla Sky on you so hang on tight.

What if…we go somewhere else when we dream? And by that I mean: our souls, our essence or consciousness. What if this world is really a hologram and we’re something much bigger than we can imagine? I’m not the only one who thinks this way, so stop rolling your eyes.

Really. Stop.

I bet if I polled my readers about half of you have had reoccurring dreams (or at least one) that you’ve had for several years; maybe you even had them when you were a child and they still make a guest appearance, now and then. I bet many of you have even had precognitive dreams. You know, the ones where you dreamt something was going to happen and then “Voila!” it actually DID.

Yes, those are a bit creepy and no one likes to talk about those in public – but it’s safe in here; I won’t tell if you won’t tell.

There are tons of books about dream analysis and tons of different opinions as to what it all means. Personally, I think only WE know. The answer is within us and only us as dreams are based on our thoughts, feelings and possible alternate world adventures.

You’re doing it again. The eye rolling.

You either believe we have a soul, or you don’t. If you don’t, you may want to stop reading. In fact, you may already have. I’m going with the good possibility that we all have one and that life goes on after bodily death. That’s just my belief; you’re welcome to have your own.

Think about it, though. Think about all those bizarre dreams you’ve had in your life where you thought: “Wow, what if there is something else to this other than just random thoughts all mixed up in my head?”

Even if you’re poo-pooing this entire blog post, I know you’ve thought about it. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. Or, maybe you’re just really boring and have no imagination. Either way, you would have thought about it once or twice before dismissing it entirely.

I think; therefore I am.

I dream really weird dreams, therefore I am…more than I thought I was?

I could go on and on about my bizarre nighttime tales I have in my sleep, but I’m more interested in yours. How often do you dream you can fly? How many re-occurring themed dreams do you have and how often do you have them? When you do, is there something significant going on in your life that occurs after this dream?

I wonder. If we could line up all of our dreams and stick them into categorical boxes; how many dreams would be entirely unique and have a theme that no one else has? Or, would there be any?

What percentage of people have had a prophetic dream?

Can we really determine any meaning from our dreams? Do we even care to? Do your dreams affect you in any way and do you remember them well into the day?

What if this life is really the DREAM and occasionally we catch a glimpse of our real selves looking back at us?

Think on that.

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Communication

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 21, 2016

com·mu·ni·ca·tion

kəˌmyo͞onəˈkāSH(ə)n/

noun

the imparting or exchanging of information or news
direct communication between the two countries will produce greater understanding”means of connection between people or places, in particular.

Why, at times, can it be so difficult to speak to each other? People can be so protective of their ideas and idealisms. We will covet them; keep them safe from scrutiny and questioning for fear of possible invalidation.

So what?

So what if we’re challenged? So what if someone questions our way of doing things and wants to understand our reasoning behind our decisions? Is it the end of the world? No. It’s the beginning of expanding our conscious decisions.

Yet, we get upset and feel scrutinized when asked to explain why we do the things we do. We do this even if it’s a loved one asking out of concern. We get defensive and pissy because …gee…what if we haven’t been making the best choices, after all?

Nobody likes being out of their comfort zone but it helps us expand, gets us out of our little box and makes us re-think, when we do. Perhaps our original decision is the correct one and that’s the conclusion we’ve come to. But in the process of even that, we still managed to gain a new perspective on the way we do things.

It doesn’t have to be an argument. It doesn’t have to be aggressive and accusing. It need only be open for discussion – communication. When we shut down and refuse to ‘talk about it’ – we’re sending a clear message: I don’t want to have to defend my belief and I’m afraid you’ll show me a reason to question it.

Again, so what?

I think we should question the way we think and do things, constantly. It keeps us honest with ourselves.

If people question you, if they ask why you do the things you do – tell them why. No one can MAKE you change. You’re still in control. It isn’t necessarily a justification but sometimes merely a need to understand because of valid concerns.

If such concerns are laid to rest, well then, the exchange of communication has been successful.

“We are communicating better but we are still not out of the woods.”

Today’s Lesson Was Brought To You By the Letter A

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 16, 2016

“A” for Anxiety.

It’s been a hellish workday. It’s not over by a long shot but I’ve been reminded by the Universe that despite all the shit that went down and could still go down…

Nothing.

Nothing can compare to May 11th 2015 when Brian decided to take his life.

Nothing will EVER be or could ever be as bad as that. So, thank you Universe for putting life back into perspective for me.

You may now return to your regular scheduled programming.

Hearts, Star Signs and the Colour Yellow

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 13, 2016

It’s just about that time, again; that marketing sensation riding the massive white horse of consumerism called Valentine’s Day. I remember when I was in elementary school; we’d get these Valentine’s cards (kiddy ones) and pass them around the class. I have no idea where the cards came from; I think the school provided them, but it was a fun time. Although…romance to a 6-year old is an entirely different thing.

I ‘think’ I liked one or two boys…I can’t really remember, but most of the cards I got were from girlfriends. We were little and Valentine’s Day only meant cards shaped like hearts, lots of red and pink things…oh…and those AWESOME cinnamon, hot and spicy, red heart candies!

God, I loved those.

Last year, this time, I’d not yet met Brian. He commented, in an email, that he really didn’t believe in Valentine’s Day and all the BS that went with it; it was contrived. I agreed. We met on Feb. 18^th. The rest is a tragic piece of history that will always be part of my life.

But he did say that he’d rather spend a romantic weekend away, somewhere, rather than buy chocolates and flowers. Unfortunately, we never got to do that.

The new man in my life is a little more traditional. Although he’s in agreement that V-day is nothing more than a marketing ploy designed to part us from our hard-earned dollar…he does believe in romance and feels if he gets me things ‘around’ THAT day, it counts.

On Friday (yesterday) I got chocolates and a ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ balloon in the shape of a heart. I think he actually WANTS to celebrate it but thinks it’s cheesy to just do it because it’s THAT day.

I think he’s terribly sweet. xo

Coinciding with all of this is the 9^th month since Bri left us. So there’s that.

It’s all coming together around everyone’s birthday, too. First mine, then one of my best friends, then two of my family members…then there’s Bri’s ex wife, next week. The week after it’s the new man in my life’s B-day.

That’s 5 Aquarians and 1 Pisces in the space of two months.

None of this means, anything, BTW – it’s just random thoughts, in case you’re wondering where the hell I’m going with this.

Lately, as in the past week, I’ve been seeing a lot of yellow X-Terras driving around. The significance is that this was what Bri drove and yellow was his favourite colour. Every time I see the colour yellow splashed around in abundance, I think of him.

There can’t be THAT many yellow X-Terras around the Lower Mainland. Yet, I keep seeing them.

I guess I’m at a pinnacle point where I’m finally learning to BE without him while knowing in my heart that he’s watching over me. I’m moving on with this life. The new man has practically moved in and our relationship has taken a turn for the serious. We’re planning on buying a place, together.

I think I’ve finally met my ‘forever guy’. He came to me exactly when I needed him to. He’s everything I could have asked for and more. He’s made up for all of the men in my past that treated me like crap, used me, said they cared but really didn’t, abused me and just plain didn’t see any value in me.

He’s made up for all of the insecurity I felt over Bri and that horrible woman whom he was infatuated with. I simply can’t compete with someone 13-years younger than me with a rock hard yoga body. Also, I’m not a blonde. So there’s that, too.

The new man honestly thinks I’m gorgeous and sexy as hell. There is no past relationship that haunts him and I not only get told I’m beautiful and that I’m loved, daily…but I damn well know he’s sincere.

I’ll always love Brian. You don’t stop loving someone because they’re dead. He’s in spirit and that’s a completely different relationship to a human romantic one.

That said, LOVE is infinite – and not just on Valentine’s Day, either. I have more than enough love for the new man and I’m grateful everyday that he chose to be part of this life with me.

So.

You can be romantic every day. Feb. 14^th is just another tick on the calendar.

I never thought I’d end up with a Pisces man.

I’ll always think of Brian when I see a lot of yellow.

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Turning Fifty

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 21, 2016

On the eve of my very last day of being in my fourth decade, I can say that it’s been an interesting ten years. A lot of shit went down. Many things (good and bad) happened in my twenties and thirties, too, but for some reason if feels I only really became an adult in the last ten years. I finally grew up and figured out who I was in the world.

It’s not that I was horrible or immature, per se when I was younger, but I definitely was naïve. I approached life events with trepidation or without much pre-planning rather than wonder and forward thinking.

I’ve learned to be so much more grateful for everything. I’ve learned how in a matter of minutes, our lives and what we think we know, can change forever. WE, can change ourselves for the better and for the worse. It’s always a choice.

The last twelve months humbled me beyond words but I think it’s character building, despite the cost and sadness. I choose to take away the good, now, from every experience when I used to dwell, a lot, on the negative.

I’m so very far from perfect (we never truly get there and it’s not about BEING perfect, it’s about the journey) but I’m so very far from the girl I was when I started out all those years ago, too.

My self-confidence has known more peaks and valleys than the beautiful Shropshire Hills in the Midlands of England. I’ve loved and lost and loved again, so many times, I don’t keep track any more. Going forward, I want to treat each new experience of the heart as if it might be the last one. I want to covet it, peel away all of the insecurities and open up myself to vulnerability and bliss at the same time. How else can we truly experience the wonder of love? How else can we really BE in the moment and experience this precious gift we call life?

We all have so many layers.

We all have so many facets, colours and shades of humanity.

I’m an onion girl and when I open up to shed all of the different parts of me you’re left only with my core being.

The Real Me is shining through.

Who is at the core of you?

Some things just deserve their own poems…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 21, 2016

Coffee is one of them.

Ode to Coffee

Hello nectar of wakefulness
That warm soothing concoction that doesn’t judge
Sleep-filled eyes that roll at the reflection of bed-head and barely awake expressions

Hello warmth that sparks the core of me and brings in the morning light
Dazzling my taste buds with tales of hand-picked beans in tropical fields
I appreciate the work, the toil and the love that brings you to my lips

Hello staple of my life, my guilty ritual and pleasure
Your scent permeates the kitchen with childhood moments
A splash of happy memories dance with me; my whole being joyful with delight

How To Love Someone

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 18, 2016

For anyone who has been reading my blog, you’ll know the man I loved and adored completed suicide, last May. I believe in my heart that I couldn’t have loved him more, couldn’t have done more to save him and I knew, early on in the relationship, that the worst possible outcome could actually happen. I just wasn’t prepared for it. I don’t think you really can because “Hope” is such a strong emotion and we cling to it in times such as this. It’s far too painful to go down that ‘what if…’ road when you’re fighting to keep someone you cherish, alive.

Now that I’ve been blessed to have a man come into my life who seems to be on the same page as myself, is drama-free and wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him…I’m reminded that life is short so I should appreciate him every day; every moment in time.

Where we’ll end up, is anyone’s guess, but it’s proceeding along nicely . There is love. There is gratefulness and there is passion and compassion. As we walk along this journey, together, I can’t help but think of all the wonderful things I used to look forward to when I was with Brian, all of the dreams that will never be realized in this life.

So…

I’m going to be in the moment with this man like it is the last moment I might share with him. Life is such a precious thing that we take for granted. We never stop to think about how we’d feel if we lost those that we love and hold dear, until it’s staring us in the eyes.

Remember to hold your loved ones close. Make sure they know they’re special in your life and that you will never forget that.

Love them like you’re going to lose them. Then you’ll never have regrets.

What’s It Like Being a Hopeless Romantic?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 8, 2016

Gosh, I’m glad you asked! Even if you didn’t.

It’s really kinda sucky. You’re constantly wanting to put your best foot forward on all occasions and can come across as ‘over the top’ even when you mean well. You are compelled to do all the cute, romantic, wonderful things for the person in your life, even if they never return the favour.

Most people give up, but not us hopeless romantics; nope, we’re driven! We feel eventually you’ll ‘get it’ and will appreciate our efforts. Usually, you never do and don’t. In fact, you tend to feel guilty that we do SO much, rather than just being grateful.

I’ve written a plethora of love poems, been always supportive, loving, and generous and all the things that you’d THINK would make someone fall in love with you. Nope…that is not a given. In fact, most don’t and can’t comprehend why they even should consider it. It seems, people are drawn to the ‘bad’ girls and boys of the world…the one they CAN’T have, and with all common sense considered, really shouldn’t want.

People are focused on what we LOOK like rather than how we treat others. It’s the beautiful bitchy girls who somehow manage to get the sweet lovable guys to swoon over them and think because this person looks like an angel that they actually are. Usually they’re quite the opposite.

Now, I’m not unattractive by any means but I’m no Jennifer Aniston, either.

Looks aside, and even if this doesn’t even factor in (that being if someone actually thinks we’re all that and a hottie to boot) they still don’t really appreciate what us hopeless romantics and all the things we do for them. Again, remember, we’re compelled…to do stuff. We actually enjoy it!

But, we expect, at the very least, a thank you. You don’t need to reciprocate (although you’ll never hear us complain if you do) but a small gesture of appreciation, now and then, would be nice.

Flowers are always a good idea for the ladies. Just saying.

These days I dial it back a little; don’t want the new guy running for the hills. It’s happened; a LOT.

OMG, she wrote me a LOVE poem, about LOVE!!! FRIG!!! I can’t take it! She’ll expect something from ME and I SUCK at poetry! Whattodowhattodowhattodo…. I know! I’ll break up with her, that way, I don’t have to think about it because I don’t know how I feel. I’m a guy, I have ONE feeling, just ONE! Fuck, this is hard!! Best I be single and look for that hot girl to fall for, instead, even though she’ll break my heart and I may never fully recover. Yes, that’s a much better plan.

WRONG ANSWER.

No, we don’t expect an epic poem back. No, we don’t even think you love us (in fact, we already know you don’t) but we are getting there (if we’re not, already) and just want to test the waters a little to see if you MIGHT be there. Some. Day. Yes, we’re that hopeful (or hopeLESS).

So, just thank us, next time. Be sweet (force yourself if you have to). Be kind. Be respectful of our feelings, we are very much thinking about yours.

I suspect, like amazing artists, we’ll only be appreciated after we’re dead.

Gosh, that girl was SO awesome!

Yes, she sure was the one who got away!

I SO miss her!

There will never be one like her, again!

*SOB!!*

Yup. I should write a book and bequeath the inevitable riches that will occur after I’m long gone to a special charity set up for Hopeful (less) Romantics.

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I’m Not a Cougar

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 6, 2016

The man I’m presently dating is 6 years younger than me. Not a biggie…he’s almost 44, not 15.

He was teasing me, today, and called me a ‘cougar’. I abhor the term and for many reasons. While I don’t judge, sleeping around with much younger men simply to fulfill a need in myself to ‘hunt’ and just ‘have fun’ without any commitments, goes against everything I’ve ever believed in and all the hard work I’ve put into past relationships/partnerships.

I’m a hopeless romantic. I love deeply and truly. When I do love, it’s for a long, long time. I want to be in a partnership for life, not just to get off and then onto the next one. I’d even consider marrying, again…despite two divorces!

After all, at nearly half a century, I’m much older and wiser, now. 😉

I want to give my heart again, all of it. I’m not quite ready, but getting there. Normally I’d be head over heels, by now, but due to what happened the last time, I’m a little gun shy. My poor little Carrie-heart really couldn’t take being broken at this time as it’s still in pieces.

I’m not hunting and I’m not prey. I want to work on a partnership/relationship (whatever you want to call it) and keep the fire burning. I want to ‘be in’ the game, be in the moment, pay attention to details and make sure the one I’m with wants to be there. If he doesn’t, we have a problem that can either be solved or resolved into moving in different directions. There needs to be FUN, EXCITEMENT, PASSION, and… LOVE. We need to have commonalities and differences, share ourselves, be honest and speak our truth. There needs to be discovery, challenges, resolutions and revolutions; we need to be in tune, in simpatico and learn to harmonize rather than live in discord.

If that makes me boring, well then…I’m not the girl for you.

That bout sums it up

Remembering the Snow

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 2, 2016

I was having a conversation with the new man in my life about childhood snow stories. He grew up in Mission, B.C., so although there were times of cold weather, (-13C, respectively) it was a far cry from growing up on the Prairies of Alberta.

I was the kid whose mother dressed her like Kenny from South Park.

All of us looked like that. When the average temperature during the winter months is -13C and when you factor in the wind chill (which blows an average 20KM/h) it’s more like -20C. There were many days when it dipped below the -40C for quite a long time. Again…add in the wind chill and it’s much worse. This was Lethbridge, AB.

Southern Alberta has what they call Chinooks. It’s a native word that means ‘snow eater’. A Chinook is a warm dry, westerly wind that blows in from the Rocky Mountains. It brings with it, not only gusty winds, but very warm temperatures. It can last a few hours or it can last weeks.

We’d get these, Chinooks, off and on throughout the winter and you could see it in the cloud formations called the Chinook Arch. Chinooks would blow in (literally) during all seasons but you’d notice them, more, in winter.

The temperature can go from a damn cold -20C to +18C in a matter of minutes. With it comes, wind gusts from 16K to 100K/h. It’s crazy. I remember one Christmas where it was over +20C.

It’s a high-pressure ridge you can actually see that can cause headaches, earaches and depression. As a child, I just loved the fact that it melted the snow and was warm. When I moved back to Alberta as an adult, it gave me terrible headaches.

In between these strange winds that travelled over the mountains from BC, there was frequently massive amounts of snow. I’m pretty sure we had more snow when I was a kid then they typically have now – global warming and all that.

In fact, I remember one year where we got snowed in. Thankfully we had a ski-do and THAT was a blast! It took us a while to get out the back door, though, as the wind had blown quite a snowdrift up against it.

As kids in winter, snow was our plaything. We’d build forts, tunnels, make snow people, and of course, find the tallest snow pile and claim it for our own. Usually these ‘snow piles’ were at the corner of a block and were the result of snow plows dumping snow from the streets from the entire block. They were HUGE!

Well, when you’re 8-years old or so, they are.

Alberta is dry, really dry. The snow isn’t soft, it hardens into ice-packed lumps so jumping, sliding off of and just plain lying on said snow hills wasn’t exactly comfortable. But – remember, we were dressed in snow suits with additional layers of clothing (think Michelin Man), so it wasn’t so bad landing on jagged pieces of ice sticking out of these snow hills.

Of course seeing as these piles of snow were stationed at the corner of intersections into the street didn’t exactly make them ‘safe’ to play on. But we did it, anyway! I’m surprised none of us were run over by passing motorists.

I remember playing in the frigid cold for hours. I remember my mother smearing cream all over my face so I wouldn’t get chapped skin, then wrapping a massive scarf around my nose and mouth so that all you saw was a pair of brown eyes and a bit of hair peeking out from under my hood. I still recall the smell of Nivea cream and remember the feeling of scratchy scarf sticking to my cheeks and nose.

Trying to run in 4 feet of snow in little-kid snow boots must have looked hilarious. We fell, a lot. My snow mittens didn’t have fingers…so you weren’t so nimble in picking up things. Snowballs were easy, though, and we got good at making them even if we sucked at throwing them.

We left our Christmas house lights lit up at night, all winter. It was constantly windy so blowing snow and ‘white out’ conditions were common. Somehow we got around, anyway. Somehow I made it to school (with the rest of the kids) in -40C +blowing snow weather. It wasn’t often school was closed. Even on these days, we were made to ‘play outside’ during recess and lunch. We survived. We were hardy, prairie kids.

We got colds and the flu just like other kids. We didn’t see green grass until around May ‘ish. Sometimes April if we were really lucky because even after the snow was gone, everything underneath was brown and dead and muddy.

When the snow melted, EVERYTHING was muddy. Alberta has clay-based soil so mud and clay were tracked into every home, every school and we just cleaned it up and lived with it.

I remember finding long stretches of pure ice on sidewalks and roads. These were like gold as taking a run and sliding on it was awesome fun! We didn’t have iPhones, the Internet and digital games, back then. It didn’t matter how friggin’ cold it was, we were made to go ‘outside’ to play. We could barely move due to the layers of clothing, but we didn’t freeze to death, either.

As a kid, winter was kinda fun. I froze my ass off with everyone else, but we made the best of it.

Now, on the Lower Mainland where the grass is always green and frost is rare, I remember what winter can really be like. I don’t miss it; I’ll take the soft grey rainy days over frigid cold, always. But I remember what it was like and I respect those who still choose to be in that environment.

We’re blessed, here. Snow is on the mountains and they’re a short drive away into a beautiful winter wonderland. The ocean is at our front door along with the warm temperate weather.

People bitch when it’s -2C. They need to make a trip to the prairies where it’s -35C and taking in a deep breath of that frozen air actually hurts your lungs.

Appreciate where you came from; be grateful for where you are.

Happy New Year.

Grouse Mountain New Years Eve 2015 Grouse

Hello 2016

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 31, 2015

I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to bid an entire 12 months adios. That being proclaimed, there were some interesting, noteworthy and positive highlights that are not related to my beloved late boyfriend and all the sorrow that went along (and is still going along) with that. To say it was hard, to say it was painful only scratches the surface of a festering open and bleeding wound.

Let’s list some good things that happened in 2015 and be thankful, shall we? In no particular order:

Financially, I’ve had the best year ever. So, that’s something.
I survived! Truly, this was possibly the worst year of my life, but I made it. I’m broken and I think my poor heart has seen much better days, but I’m alive and healing, little by little.
I’ve learned a lot about love, life and myself. I’ve come a long way from the woman who thought she was doing ‘okay’, in Jan. 2015. I now know better. I now know I’ve much more to learn and much growing to do in so many positive ways.
I went to visit my best friend in Australia! It didn’t fix me; I still had my daily cry over Bri…but I had a blast, anyway! I will return and I hope she comes to visit me, soon, in Canada.
Despite having kidney failure, due to the wonderful medicine (and lots and lots of LOVE), my fur baby (and best kitty friend EVER) is doing well! I’m blessed to still have him at almost 14-years.
I met someone exceptionally nice and although it’s new, there is a care-factor. I have no idea if love will surface but he’s devoted and spends a lot of quality time with me. This speaks volumes. He’s never ‘too busy’ and I think if there were something that I really needed to count on him for, he’d be there.
I lost friends (by choice) but I made new friends (by choice). I think I’m better off by choosing to let go of some who don’t fit inside my world and let in others who do.
I’ve gone back into learning spiritual healing techniques and how have my level II traditional Japanese Reiki. I’ll also be checking out Seichem.
I got better at my climbing techniques. Yes, this counts. Try it if you think it’s easy, ‘cause it’s not.
I’ve committed to daily meditation and actually love it. It’s grounding, healing and helps me connect to Spirit.

Learn to just ‘be’.

Be yourself. Be happy. Be loved. Be okay with stuff. Be good. Be ready …for everything and anything, you can never know what curveballs life will throw at you. Be safe (as in, don’t be stupid). Be lovING. Be truthful and grateful.

Be the best YOU, you can be. Happy New Year.

Peace & Love. xo

i_see_you_in_my_dreams

An Unconventional Birthday Wish

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 23, 2015

Does it make sense to wish someone a Happy Birthday when they’re dead?

I don’t know the answer to that one, but because his loss is still so raw with me and because he only ‘would’ have been 47, today…and tomorrow is Christmas, after all… I’ll do it anyway.

Happy Birthday, Brian. xo

For three months in my life, you were everything to me, although it seems I knew you for years. You mattered, most. Your presence made me a better soul. I learned so much from you. Your leaving still hurts like the most unimaginable hell. I hope you’re okay. I love you. I hope you’re being cared for and healing, where you are. I miss you. Thank you for being part of my journey. And finally, I’ll see you again, some day. 🙂

You’re so very missed and so VERY LOVED by so very many…

Those moments we almost dreamed

thoughts of better times

between a star and magic

I know you

By ghost or Angel

my love and friend

I lived sacred poetry in you

Relationships

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 14, 2015

re·la·tion·ship

rəˈlāSH(ə)nˌSHip/

noun

noun: relationship; plural noun: relationships

the way in which two or more concepts, objects, or people are connected, or the state of being connected.

synonyms:

connection, relation, association, link, correlation, correspondence, parallel, alliance, bond, interrelation, interconnection

I’ve always kind of prided myself in being good at relating to others. Although, truth be told, it wasn’t always so. I’m not specifically referring to the romantic kind, either, as relationships form the basis of …well…pretty much our entire world.

It’s how we ‘relate’ to one another both as individuals and groups, that dictate how others perceive us and ultimately how we view ourselves.

When I was much younger, I was terribly shy. It didn’t help that I came from a mostly difficult and painful, home life. I had trust issues. Later on in life I discovered I had abandonment issues. Thankfully there are professionals who help us deal with these things!

I usually don’t let a lot of people into my life (again…trust and abandonment issues) and once upon a time I thought that I had ‘enough’ people in my life and didn’t need any more. I’ve since reviewed this way of thinking and yes…this is because of the whole ‘Brian’ thing.

I don’t believe he realized how many people really loved him. I don’t think he knew just how deeply he affected our lives and he was the kind of guy who would to go to Meet-Up groups and make friends very easily. He was quite a friendly dude. Everyone really liked him.

So I got to thinking… Maybe I shouldn’t be so afraid of reaching out; perhaps I should try a little harder to ‘connect’ to people. If it doesn’t work out, well, no biggie – we move on.

Since I’ve been more receptive to opening my door to possibly new relationships with others, I’ve made friends with clients (women whom I now count as dear personal friends), offered strangers free Reiki so that I may be of service. I’ve created a basis for trust and respect that is reciprocal.

In short, I’ve extended my network of souls and it feels really good! I’m very far from being perfect or even getting to a place where I could even hope to be on the same page as SO many others in my life.

But, I’m making vast improvements. Baby steps, after all.

The message, here?

Be open to receiving as well as giving. Be open to people who care and allow yourself to care, back.

Connect, reach out, believe in kindness, create bonds, alliances and above all else – give of yourself.

Don’t be afraid to love and be loved.

Thanks for the lesson, Bri – and just in time for Christmas, too. 😉

triad_by_musingcalliope-d6frfnp

Coping, Christmas and Time

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 7, 2015

It’s been one hell of a year and I know I’m not the only one who will be glad when it’s over. I will welcome 2016 in, with open arms.

I recently had a conversation with someone around time, the New Year and how I felt about all of it. He said that he doesn’t put any reference on one year to the next. I do but didn’t always. There was a time when the New Year meant just another day to me. I’ve never stuck to and rarely have any New Year’s Resolutions.

But, when someone we love dies, and especially when it’s sudden or violent, we seem to count the time in which they left. We can’t help it. I asked my shrink why, once, and she said it’s because some people put a time-limit or time-frame on grief. They think at some point in ‘time’ we will start to feel better and we lead up to that. Apparently it’s not how it works. Grief has its own time dimension and we are not in control of it.

Lots of people left this world in 2015. We always miss those whom we love and are not with us, any longer, around the holiday time/birthdays, the most. It doesn’t help that their birthday just happens to fall a day before Christmas, either.

I never got to spend a birthday or Christmas with Brian. I am grateful, though, that there is a new person in my life whom I will get to spend Christmas with. I’m hoping that when his birthday makes an appearance in Feb., that he still likes me and I’ll get to share that with him, too.

All of this doesn’t take away from missing those who aren’t present in body, any longer. Last week one of my colleagues lost his father…another colleague passed away from an unexpected heart attack and shocked us all. Both on the same day.

Even if it’s somewhat expected (and let’s face it, at some point it will be – none of us are getting out of here with our bodies, alive) the rest of us simply have to mourn, miss, and cope with the absence. Until, it’s our turn, of course.

I take solace in my belief that we DO go on and not only that, but check in on the peeps still left here on Earth, often. I remind myself of that every time I gaze at the bottom shelf of my book case and spy those who’ve gone on that I love. I wave…say hello…tell them I love them and know they’re around me. It doesn’t stop the tears but it softens them.

I’m coping. I’m learning to live with it as my shrink said that I eventually would. I’m learning to be okay with life the way it is and allow others in so that I can move forward and find joy, peace and maybe…if I’m really lucky…Love.

I don’t know if it ever gets any easier. I don’t know how I’ll feel in one or ten years from now but I do know that I’ll always find a way to cope. Time doesn’t heal…it just doesn’t. What it does do is put things into perspective as we get on with it. It lessens the pain, somewhat, but it doesn’t take it away.

What heals, is other people that stick it through with us. Other people that are still here on this little blue and green globe. People that need us, love us and count on us. Other souls, just like me, dealing with grief, daily…and others who are simply there because we need them to be.

It’s just easier coping, together.

XO to all of you…

bookends_by_quiescent_reverie-d31izru

What I’ve Learned

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 26, 2015

People will whine about anything and everything.

There will always be someone (or many someone’s) who will complain when others try and do a good deed because they feel that it impacts them, personally, in a negative way and this frightens them. Even if it really doesn’t, they will complain about it because they are ruled by fear.

There will always be people who don’t ‘get’ that we are all cut from the same cloth and are here on Earth to LOVE, not hate and kill.

I’ve also learned…

People who give the most often have the least to give and complain about nothing, but instead, are grateful for everything.

There will always be someone (or a whole lot of someone’s) willing to step up to the plate and do the right thing to help their fellow human being or animal.

There will always be people who ‘get’ we are all the same, underneath our skin, and that passing around love, gratitude, help and whatever one can spare will impact not only the person/people/animals it’s directed towards but all of those around them and then some. Grace and love travel at the speed of thought. Hate seems to need the internet to boost its message of fear.

That’s all I got, folks.

Amen/FIN

gold

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