I Will Fight

On March 13th I became officially certified as a coach, CTI notified me that I had passed my final exam.  The final exam is an event marked in my memory as joyful and exhilarating.  I had the pleasure of coaching two masterful coaches, my examiners, for 15 minutes each. Going into the experience, I saw these two people as my colleagues and prior to coaching them, I asked God to help me be of service to each of them.  When I began the process of becoming coach, I learned quickly that it was I that needed coaching, I needed to see and know where I was stuck, I needed to envision the more that my life is meant to be, I needed to be set free from the chains that held me captive to insecurity, self doubt, "realistic" and stayed perspectives~my life purpose was waiting for me and coaching opened the door to my life just a crack, I'M the one pushing that door open to see what is on the other side.  It is not in my nature to be frightened, I am a warrior, a protector, a fighter of the good fight, for justice and love and freedom.  My clarity increases daily, many are prisoners, enslaved and ensnarled by those that brow beat them into submission, the bullies that keep the brilliant from their freedom to grow and expand and turn towards the light...I will fight fiercely until all know their worth, with Gods strength, I will fight.

Grandma Ruth & Grandma Mary

"If you don't make the choice, choice makes you". Here's another one "if nothing changes, everything stays the same".  Two questions:  what will be made of you AND how is your same?  When you or I don't know what it is we want, it behooves us to find out. Staying the same is not an option once the wheels beginning turning, moving us in the direction of knowing.  My life is a big deal, it holds a lot if responsibility. Let me be very clear...it is MY LIFE, and this is the only one I know anything about at this point in time, it's all I've got.  I am responsible for every aspect of how it goes. As a child, I was subject to the decisions that the big powerful people in my life made~I wasn't consulted or given permission to give my opinion. This being subject to another, it carried on until I learned to argue, and boy howdy, I got really good at that.  When I learned that verbal sparring gave me freedom, that expressing my opinion, even when I was wrong, didn't kill me or anybody else, it fuelled my fire and well, I have been talking (less verbal sparring) ever since.  What I have learned about myself is that my intentions are good, that I am a kind person, and that taking care of me doesn't take away from another in fact, it does the opposite.  Regret kicks in when I sacrifice me for another and than realize that they never asked for that, expected it or even...noticed...Love, self love, it's the starter fluid for the fire that burns pure and lights up the world. To thine own self be true, words to live by.  Inspired by grandma Ruth's love, and grandma Mary's fire~your granddaughter noticed and is still learning from you~xo Ruth the second. 

Coaching Cures Myopia

My eyes, do they see what is real or what I want them to see?  Emotions, feelings, they can taint my vision, blur my sight, make me myopic~one of the definitions for this word is: lacking tolerance or understanding; narrow-minded.  Coaching has taught me that the good fight is FOR humanity, it is FOR believing in others and FOR being hopeful of life altering transformation in other words, to never give up, to truly believe that we are all naturally creative resourceful and whole.  I love this premise of being whole, because that applies to me too.  Zig Ziggler used to say God doesn't make junk and if I look at others, his children with his eyes, I might see some naughty behavioural issues (totally redirect able and correctable) and I will also see how precious each one of us truly is, flaws and all. Open the eyes of my heart, this is my prayer. I can see clearly now the rain has gone, I can see all obstacles in my way, gone are the dark clouds that had me blind, it's gonna be a bright, bright, sunshiny day...

Conformity Kills

Yesterday I started the process to become a coach teaching dance to Special Olympic athletes. I was invited to do so by one of my all time favourite people, a close friend, Paula Kerr. Yesterday she and her partner in fun, Eric, taught the athletes to dance while drumming on stability balls. I joined in. The me that wants to get it right, follow the leader and master the activity showed up and at first, I noticed that the other participants weren't as keen on playing follow the leader which made me wonder if it was choice or inability to follow?  I had a rude awakening, while I tried so hard to conform, the rest of the group was in sync with the leaders when they choice to be, when it suited them and when it didn't, they were creative, drumming, singing and dancing to the music with unrestricted joy, making the experience their own while enjoying community. The unity in the group was tangible, and as I realize the gift I was offered, I took it, I cut the self conscious do it the right way according to someone else ego tether and I danced and sang and periodically missed a beat and I had FUN.  Conformity kills the spirit, creativity, it is a buzz kill a joy sucker.  God wants me to learn to be myself AND love it.  Some of us know this naturally, some of us need to be taught, I am learning, being taught...and it is good. 

The Eyes of Love

My 16 year old son went to Ottawa for the school March break. While there, he and his friend made sandwiches to hand out to the homeless. One fellow ate the sandwich in about 30 seconds and thanked the boys profusely. Last night, they went out again and offered a sandwich to a man who asked "is it warm, because if not, I'll pass". My son informed me of the incident and wrote LOL, afterward. This delights me, because my boy didn't get his nose out of joint, nor did he have a negative opinion of the man following the rejection of the proffered sandwich.  I am pondering, what made my son make and offer sandwiches to the homeless?  What makes one man accept thankfully and another reject the offer out of a particular need to have "it", the offer, a certain way?  Perspective is my only answer. How we see the world, how we interact with and appreciate or reject, block another from doing us a service is all about this one thing:  Do you and I see others with the eyes of love?  Am I your equal, another precious soul travelling in time and space by your side?  Conversely, am I an object of your hate, your envy, your projected pain?  Someone seen as your competition, the reason for your failure, an enemy against your cause?  The wind is blowing outside, it howls at the thought of the latter suggestion...The Eyes of Love, they softly speak you are welcome here, come as you are.

Life Is It Anyway

The not so funny joke of "you have married your mother/father" exists because it's true. The unconscious decisions we sometimes make are based on an unfinished story, often times, someone else's. What do you do when someone else's story is superimposed on your life?  What is this ancient ritual of passing on dysfunction or on the brighter side of this scenario, passing on the happy and the good from and in relationship?  Whichever scenario we find ourselves in, there is a remembering, a pulling back to what was and in everyday life, it shows up as what currently is.  This is a messy kind of statement so I will explain.  Let's play with the idea that when I selected my mate, he was very different from my father.  As time went on, similarities between my husband and father became apparent, and from there, someone might observe and say positively or with a negative snarl, "you married your father".  This generally is stated in the negative and has a Freudian feel, an unresolved issue that shows up looking for healing, understanding, resolution.  The big question is:  if my husband actually was unlike my father when we began our relationship and gradually became more like him as time went on, did I do or say or live a life that formed and shaped, created in essence, a repeat of who my father was for some unknown reason?  This question takes me to this thought filled question:  Who's life is it anyway?  Am I okay with someone else's superimposed life placed dark shadow like overtop of mine?  What role do I play in giving away my freedom to chose for myself in favour of repeating what I have learned?  We create all the time, including our reality. What is yours?  Who's life is it anyway?  You decide. 

Love is a Verb

Some people choose to be right, regardless of the facts. We all tell stories in our heads and have the ability to shall I say politely, embellish the truth or twist it to prove a point and validate our thoughts, feelings and ultimately the story we tell. There is someone I love, I can't help but love, but the stories in her head, they keep us apart.  Our vision, the colour of our glasses, how we see the world and it's people is telling, it speaks to our inner thought world and shows up in brief interactions with strangers and in more intimate contact with supposed beloved ones.  There is always the energy trail, the trace left behind that lingers and either leaves a rash or feels like the sprinkling of Heavenly shimmering fairy dust. The leave behind trace lingers and then fades and the unaware, the unconscious souls that go about the world clunking and banging, wreaking havoc with the peace of others around them, they leave destruction in their wake, debris to be cleaned up in their absence as they go off to go about their distructive business elsewhere.  I have heard there is a thin line between love and hate, this is a line I never want to draw or cross. I like the term "love is a verb", it goes along with the expression "actions speak louder than words".  What I think and or feel affects what I say and what I do~think about it, isn't this true of EVERYONE in your life?  If you don't see love demonstrated, in action by another, chances are, it just isn't there.