We Within

Today is Earth Day and I want to write a different kind of post. Throughout my life, I've encountered many people who think environmental issues are not an important topic, or at least not as important as the immediacy of other problems like unemployment, economic crisis or even whether a specific area should belong to a country or be its own independent country. These are all important issues, for sure, but what happens when we keep postponing tackling environmental problems is that... time runs out. And on top of these socio-economic problems, we have an even bigger one: Life on Earth becomes threatened. I also see many people who feel completely helpless and believe there's nothing we can do to avoid the impending disaster. They think it's futile to even try. It's terrifying to observe this line of thinking in younger generations. I feel for them, because they have been thrown in the middle of one of the most uncertain times. They feel betrayed by our actions and t...

So much has happened since I last wrote here. There wasn't room for words, only actions. I left the slow pace of winter behind and harnessed the vibrant rhythm of spring. I saw friends and family. I attended a virtual four-day event hosted by Tony Robbins that shifted my mindset powerfully. I challenged fears and limiting thoughts. I appreciated the sun and the rain working in tandem to make everything green. I got a car, which is the first step to finding a new home before our time here is over. And now this. The birth of a new project that is actually old in my head. An idea I had more than five years ago but when I shared it with someone else their doubts became my own. I wasn't ready then but the seed was planted in my mind and it quietly grew until I had the courage to bring it forth. Never despair if doubts make you hesitate. Perhaps you just need to let the thought ripen. Perhaps you merely have to work on the soil first, the soil of your mind, and make it fruitful and ...

For years I've held this battle within myself in which two opposing forces threaten my peace of mind. I still catch myself some days, even now, wrestling with my emotions: I'll feel joyful, full of life, and then a part of me, the part of me that is still grieving my dog's loss, will pat me on the shoulder to remind me he's not here to share this joy, that I shouldn't be too happy, as if my unhappiness would somehow honour his death. Grief is strange. I feel something similar when I see cows grazing in the farms that surround my town. I always get excited when I see animals; I love observing them. But then, inevitably, I'll remember the cruel, unnecessary death that awaits them. How can I stay happy when I'm faced with the dark side of the world? How can I stay happy when I look at the amount of plastic trash all around me? How can I stay happy when the Amazon burns and the earth dries up and wars are still happening? How can I stay happy when I know our p...

Spring is coming. I feel it in my core, even if the sky is grey and a cold wind encourages me to hide under layers and stay home. Days are longer, trees are flowering, the sun quickly warms everything up when it peeks behind the clouds. My body is emerging from its slumber now that all the winter darkness is gone. And along with the darkness, my need to retreat, to slow down and isolate is quickly vanishing. What's replacing it is a sense of excitement. Spring makes me feel alive, rejuvenated after the slowness of winter. Suddenly, I find myself listening to music more and each chord makes my body vibrate. Nature feels more vibrant than ever. I find inspiration all around me. I want to read all the books, connect with people, do more, be more, give more. If spring was a life stage, it would be a child. It's a symbol of rebirth after all. I have a big vision for this spring. I have projects that want to see the light, dreams that want to come true. There's a voice in my he...

My younger self once believed someone would come and rescue me one day and we would live happily ever after. I was an avid reader and stories taught me to believe in happy endings. Even the most horrific tales I used to read (which happened to be my favourite) spoke of heroines navigating tragedy after tragedy until things got resolved at the end and their saviours' love made the heroines forget the pain they had left behind. To be fair, not all stories were like this, but back then I needed those stories. I needed hope. How many women can relate to this? The narrative has changed quite a bit since then, but generation after generation of women grew up believing a romantic relationship was the end-all. One only has to read a Jane Austen novel to realise it used to be a matter of life or death (and when I say death I mean a poverty-stricken life with a premature death). These things leave a mark. This was all happening on a subconscious level but its grip was powerful. You can imag...

Some of us start a new year with a sense of excitement. Calendars might be a simple human invention but there is definitely a powerful meaning attached to them. Whether you're the kind of person that makes resolutions or not, a new year feels like a fresh start. That's why so many people enter January with a vision, something we wish to see unfold for the next twelve months, some kind of improvement in our life. Perhaps you're determined to become healthier or you want to give momentum to your career or you've decided this is the year you're going to put yourself out there and find a meaningful relationship. But then February comes and that excited energy starts to wane.   How many times have you decided to change something in your life and form a new habit? And how many times did you stick to that decision? It happens to all of us. We start with the best intentions but the excitement inevitably falls apart... and we give up. Why, though? Well, it seems  it's th...

This morning I saw a man on the ground, gravity pulling him with the kind of harshness that makes flesh bleed. His body tensed up and shook as two men raced to help. I felt my own body walk towards them in a haze, with the vague notion that I had something to do, as if the world was a stage and I had to play my part. I stood and watched for a few seconds, his mouth gaping like a fish out of the water, a scream rolling out of his lungs. So fragile, so vulnerable. That's how we all are, all creatures on this planet. Then, in the middle of shock, I remembered why I had moved in the first place.  "We have to roll him on his side". There it was. My small part in the play. As I said the words, one of the two men said the same thing. I remember our voices mingling in the air, speaking as one, but perhaps I'm remembering wrong. Memories like these tend to feel like a dream.  A woman stepped in to place her yellow scarf under his head and, like me, she silently retreated. Som...