"you must make a choice, to take the chance, or your life will never change."

"intentions can change reality."

"be a priority in your life."

"stop waiting. life moves faster than you think."

Before tackling this blog, I procrastinated by checking my various social media accounts, and I fell upon my friend Amber Lee's most recent blog post. She's has this incredible passion for life and I love how she explores, discovers and views the world around her. I ended up re-reading her post The 52 Weeks, which is about her quest to write weekly and so far, true to her word/post, she has posted something each week without fail. I love how her Project Manager self comes out and was really drawn to two of her objectives:

• To see what happens. Sometimes when you take an action, something happens. I’m curious to know what will happen. Maybe nothing. Maybe no one will read this and I am only writing for myself, but that’s okay.
• To challenge myself.  This will help me structure and focus my brain, and to sharpen my skills.

Her commitment to herself inspired me to reflect on my own sense of commitment and what it means to me.

I have tried a number of times to reset my life, launch into self-improvements and have had a stream of good intentions - I'm trying to lose weight. I'm trying to bring my lunch to work. I'm trying to get 7 hours of sleep. I'm trying to be more disciplined. I'm trying to go out to meet new people. I'm trying to keep up with my writing. I'm trying...I'm trying...I'm trying. I have a string of statements that I've made to myself over the years. But I found that I was equally good at self-sabotaging my attempts, coming up with excuses to not continue. My backdoor has been everything from my fears, shame, guilt, unwillingness to be vulnerable, a need to stay in control, my own lack of belief in myself and my inability to value my own worth, dreams and wishes.

1. There's a difference between "to try" and "to commit" 

Question: do you see commitment as a pledge, promise, obligation, as an act of engaging yourself, or all of the above? Image credit: David Jelinek

To try is to make an effort, an attempt, to test things, a trial. In trying, there is no accountability to oneself, and for me, this was my loop hole to any self-sabotaging efforts - there was no requirement to continue if things didn't work out. However, David Jelinik's attitude about the outcome of committing to something is rather blasé: "Commit and who cares what the results are...it's awesome enough that you started." Having the motivation to start something is great, but what David's commitment scale fails to point out is the higher the level of commitment, the deeper one has to dig within one self to make and sustain the effort to see it through to the end. If I'm going to put in all that effort into making something happen, I am going to care...a lot, because if I didn't, I'd be the first to walk through that backdoor.


2. Rephrase your intentions into action statements.

A friend of mine shared what she learned at a retreat about living in the present and she said sometimes, all it takes is rephrasing an intention in the present tense. I struggled with this concept for a while with my work-life balance and so I told her "I'm trying to leave work by 5 pm each day". But my commitment to my work had a greater hold on me and I continued to struggle to let go of my workaholic self. So one day, she emailed me this phrase:

"I am productive and my work day ends at 5 pm."

3. Follow through, and if you don't succeed, repeat.

"You cannot make a real commitment unless you accept that it's a choice that you keep making again and again and again."

from the poem "Love after Love"

a facebook friend request...
a short email note...
i'm hanging suspended in this emotional limbo...

but to understand my state a little, rewind the film reel...

Timeline - Jan 2015
sitting on a futon in my friend's apartment, i sat listening to her talk about the man she wanted to be with, but couldn't, the back and forth reasons, emotional outbursts, the justifications, the back story of how it came to be and not to be. classic break up emotions to which i assured her, the feelings are normal and that it was okay to grieve the end of a relationship. i also shared my own experience and views that when one breaks up with someone, you can't instantly go from boyfriend/girlfriend to become "just friends".  our minds may try to convince us of it, but our irrational emotions don't follow the same logic. my friend bemoaned how she couldn't stop texting her ex and how she hoped he wouldn't text her back.  and i listened to her recite their text exchange, i asked her if she realized that she was the one instigating the ongoing exchange, fueling the drama, and did she realize it?

for those of us who have been emotionally and psychologically bruised and abused, not being able to control a situation is something hard to accept. what started as a means to protect ourselves emotionally has become our worst self-sabotaging tool. to give oneself the space and time to heal, one must sometimes sever ties after a break-up, to gain that perspective, and to be able to let go of the emotional baggage. when enough time has a passed and the tangent connections of the past reconnect, then yes, perhaps the "friends" zone is possible.

Timeline - Feb 2015
my past reached out to reconnect. a simple message.

"I won't lie.  I do miss my Winterlude sushi. Hope you're well."

i don't know how many times i re-read that phrase, the past guilt and shame washing over me. there was also a hint of excitement. but i was now having to practice what i preached.  had enough time passed for my past and i to return and be friends again? was my self-respect, pride and self-worth intact? how many steps backward would i be taking if i did reconnect with my past?

my situation with him is one of my greatest regrets and shame.

Timeline - March 2011
we were friends and industry peers. we would text, write, talk...with jokes that often bordered on the naughty. st-patty's day, i crossed that friendship line and drove to his house. as i drove, my mind tried to reason with desire. i wanted a lasting and authentic relationship - and to do that, i knew i would have to be honest with him - no matter the consequences. but when he kissed me, i was lost and my intention to disclose my STD status before having sex with him didn't happen as i had planned.  poor timing and judgement on my part - i told him while having sex (note: condoms were used). not my proudest moment.

his reaction was, well, understandable. i stood in the room silent. utterly ashamed. and in the midst of the chaos and his tirade, he asked me a question "Why won't you love me?" i couldn't answer him. afterwards, i would write him an apology, but what we had was over and there really wasn't anything that i could do to fix things. we ended all contact. and for that, i am grateful. although at times, i feel i took the coward route by running away from the situation.

Timeline - 2013/2014
it has always bothered me how things ended that st. patty's day night. my whole behaviour and reactions, or lack there of, bothered me. that hole in my sidewalk was my solace for a long time - i stopped going out, i removed myself from the local music scene in fear of facing him. it wasn't until i was in counselling that i finally gained some perspective about what was bothering me...and it stems a lot in what was not voiced.

as a father, i respected him.
as a musician, i admired him and was proud of him.
but as a man, i loathed him.

his question then: why won't you love me?
my answer now: because when i am with you, you make me feel i'm only worth a pussy and a secret.

after a naughty text, phone calls or chats at the bar, he would end things with "just between you and me, right?" my stomach would knot. as i would replay those memories, i would later realize that whenever he would end our communication with those words, i would feel like i was 14 years old again with the family friend telling me that what he was doing to me wasn't true love but just a game, and to be kept as a secret.

i had shared this part of my past with him before. in hindsight, i don't know if he really remembers me telling him, but as my friend, i expected him to remember and put two and two together, be compassionate and considerate. but no, i was simply a secret to him too.

Present day
"well maybe sometime we can get in touch, catch up."
with the FB messages and emails, I was ready to run back, serve humble pie, and do anything to patch up our relationship. i won't lie...i also wanted the satisfaction to say all the things written above and sticking it to him.  but last night, a good friend of mine talked some sense into me.

her advice and wisdom: what will instigating a meeting up with him achieve? and what if he doesn't react the way you want him to? you already have your closure. you may WANT to tell him things, but you don't NEED to. there's a difference. don't set yourself up just for the sake of telling him things - you can't control the outcome, but if you do run into him again, just let it happen.

i'm happy he's reached out and i do hope that there is a way forward for the two of us...but i don't need to get on that roller coaster ride. my emotions and state of mind are standing on the same firm ground...and there is no plan to stray from my journey. just the simply awareness and to be able to practice what i preach is a reward in itself.

I started writing this blog post a few days ago to explore some anxieties I was experiencing, but they all seem so mute in light of this past week's events - two soldiers murdered, the Parliament breached, the suspect shot dead by the Sergeant-in-Arms, and buildings in lockdown. It was like an episode of 24, only it wasn't Keifer Sutherland in the camera frame with special effects and stunts, there was no script or movie soundtrack, and there were no re-takes. In a country and capital that doesn't often see this kind of chaos, it brings about a different perspective and a new sense of vulnerability.  Hearing of former colleagues who witnessed the shooting to seeing images of a friend escorted out of a building amidst a swarm of armed police or seeing the evidence of bullet holes in the walls where I have walked through Parliament before...it all seems surreal.

I waited for the all the political leaders to address Canadians...waiting for our fearless leader to send out a message of reassurance, but the one delivered by Justin Trudeau spoke to me the most.

"...In the days that follow, there will be questions, anger and perhaps confusion. This is natural, but we cannot let it get the better of us. Losing ourselves to fear and speculation is the intention of those who commit these heinous acts.

They mean to shake us. We will remain resolved.

They want us to forget ourselves. Instead, we should remember.

We should remember who we are. We are a proud democracy, a welcoming and peaceful nation, and a country of open arms and open hearts. We are a nation of fairness, justice and the rule of law.

We will not be intimidated into changing that.

If anything, these are the values and principles to which we must hold on even tighter. Our dedication to democracy and the institutions we have built is the foundation of our society. And a continued belief in both will guide us correctly into the future. Staying true to our values in a time of crisis will make us an example to the world.

Criminals cannot and will not dictate to us how we act as a nation, how we govern ourselves or how we treat each other. They cannot and will not dictate our values. And they do not get to decide how we use our shared public spaces.

Today we heard about a loss of innocence in Canada. This is inaccurate. Canada is not innocent to the threats we face, and we know that we are not immune. What is true is that we have not let those threats shape us, and we have never bowed to those who mean to undermine our values and way of life. We have remained Canadians. And this should be how we will carry on."

We will remain resolved: I remember attending a fundraising event for the Japanese tsunami victims where the then Japanese Ambassador to Canada Kaoru Ishikawa calmly stated, "Each of us must do what we must do."  We have been shaken and I still feel twisted inside each time I see images in the media of that day and the victims. But my hope for my national capital is that celebrations in shared public spaces continue and as Trudeau says, that we don't lose ourselves to fear and overreaction.

We should remember who we are:  This is a call to all of us to be true to ourselves as well as our nation - to uphold our values and commitment to democracy, respect and compassion for each other and ourselves, and to remain resilient as we walk through the challenges and chaos despite our feelings of vulnerability. While Trudeau says we should hold on even tighter, it shouldn't mean that we hold so tight that we become inflexible otherwise this could become our Achilles' heel. 

My fingers are poised over the keyboard.  My eyes closed and I'm simply listening...waiting...being...

I'm waiting for that source of inspiration to hit....but all I hear are the lyrics to John Legend's song "All of me", mixed with a bit of Hoobastank's "The Reason", my original anthem song.

My sessions with my counsellor are nearing an end...the ending of a chapter.  As in any journey, one always gets a sense when it's time to move on...that it's time to leap and move forward on your own.  In my sessions, I sensed greater positive energy, strength, courage and hope within myself so I knew...I know it's time to step out and venture on my own.

I'm feeling apprehensive and anxious. But there's that nagging feeling within me...an edge.  The whimsical me who has been hiding behind the full skirts is now tugging at the skirt, trying to get my attention and she's got her hand already on the doorknob, ready to sprint from the brick house and into the world beyond...to explore, to discover, to chase, to simply be.  But I can also see now that this girl I'm looking at isn't merely the innocent girl full of whimsy that I've been protecting and hiding - no, she's a woman with a sense of curiosity, wonder, and adventure. She's aware of the risks and obstacles she may face, but she's is bright and resourceful enough to figure things out as the situation arises. She doesn't need a cage or an armor to protect her. She is her own champion who has learned to voice and express what she wants.

Regardless...I know that I'll be here a little longer yet on this blog...this chapter may be ending, but the start of my next journey is only beginning...

It's been a fairly dreary, wet and cold summer, but now that we've reached the last week of August, Summer has finally perked up and the hot humid days and nights have returned, drinking in every last minute of what time remains of Summer.

I don't blame Summer - I'm doing the same thing.  I've been reflecting on all the adventures I've enjoyed these past few months against what I had hoped to do, what I've learned from the experiences, and what more can I do with what is left of Summer.

At the start of the summer, I created my Summer of Bliss list as a way to reconnect with my whimsical self and to embrace the present:

1. Jump off a Bridge (incomplete - a few weeks after I completed my list, the local police posted a warning - $200 fine for anyone caught jumping off the bridge into the river - need to find a new bridge).
2. SkyZone (incomplete - but activity scheduled for this week - I'm going to jump on the trampolines until I am breathless).
3. Water Park (incomplete - but I plan to attend before the park closes for the season).
4. Speeddating (completed - I committed myself to get out of my box and challenged myself to meet new people. Matches lined up and moving along my personal journey to engage my authentic self).
5. Camping (completed - it was for one night, but it was nice to be surrounded by nature, kayaking on the lake, swimming at the locks and simply slowing down).
6. Read 10 books (incomplete - I've read one book so far)
7. Attend local festivals (completed - attended the Garlic Festival, Cheese Curd Festival and the Opening of a new Park).

If I were given the chance to repeat these past 8 weeks, I wouldn't change much...it has been the most rewarding summer for me in a long time...the kind of summer I used to dream of. I loved the time I spent with myself, re-connecting to both my essensual and whimsical selves and I have author Sarah Ban Breathnach's to thank.  Her book Romancing the Ordinary: A Year of Simple Splendors has been my main source of inspiration for my Summer of Bliss.

As for not completing all that I had planned, Sarah writes:

"Plenty of time left for a summer fling."

And so that is what I plan to do - to continue and complete as much as I can before the leaves change and fall beckons me to spend time with her.

For me to make a commitment to myself, I need to take a good, hard look not only at what I value about me, but whether I value me as a person...although I value myself generally and think of myself as someone with a positive sense of self, when it comes to romantic relationships all bets are off...when it comes to work of friends, I value me for me. When it comes to romantic relationships, my self-worth flies out the window.
As a person, I channel my positive energy towards my work, friends and family.

So why can't I commit to myself? Do I think I'm more trouble than I'm worth?  I fully admit that I am my own worst enemy. I have a habit of criticizing instead of praising myself; seeing the mistakes instead of the successes. 

We were raised to believe that we should give to everyone else -- take care of everyone else -- before we take care of ourselves...at the end of the day, we have nothing left to give...but if you can't commit to give to you, to take care of you, then pretty soon you have nothing left but a broken shell of who you used to be.

Up until recently, I went for the alternative to making a commitment to myself. I made commitments to everyone else...but to commit to me? No, thank you. if you commit to yourself and rely on yourself, when who are you going to blame when things go wrong...of course, I blamed myself anyway - for my own problems and everyone else's as well. 

• Making my home a home - after 6 years of living in my condo, I believe it's time I acknowledge that I am living here and not planning on moving anytime soon.  And if I do, who cares! I want to claim this space as my own - and as I browse and research different styles and designs, I'm learning to listen and trust my gut what I want and how I want to transform this space, as well as discovering my own tastes and personality.  I've started by declutttering, buying a few furniture pieces but more importantly, I've put a nail in my wall to hang a picture - this to me has always been a representation and test of what commitment means to me.
• Shedding the pounds - I'm nearing the big 4-0, and so I've made a commitment to lose 40 lbs before my milestone birthday. I've reached 25% of my goal so far and it's been an amazing feeling to have that goal and also having the dogged determination to want it as well. I've faltered and fallen off the wagon, but I'm not going to let myself stand there as the wagon drives off into the far off distance. I'm totally capable of catching up to that wagon and jumping back on. 
• Connecting with my self - This is a category that I've grouped a number of hobbies and interests but with the main thread of connecting to my self and continuing to peel back the dead layers so that there is more room to breathe and grow - yoga as a way to connect me to my body and surrounding energies, reading to connect with my mind, writing/painting/music to connect with my creativity, wearing dresses to connect with myself as a woman, to go out at least once a week and do something without my dog so that I'm meeting new people, and so on. I'm doing this to honour a friend who has struggled but lives with such grace and had I been in her place, I don't know if I could have coped. And so for her, I use these daily practices to understand and perfect the art of imperfection, to be comfortable with my vulnerability, and to continue healing.   

• I've joined weight watchers. I've worked on creating a healthier approach to food and understanding that I am accountable with every food choice I make. The weight has started coming off and I am proud of it, even giddy when friends and colleagues mention it. It's certainly helped to get a better grip on my emotional eating.
• By understanding my relationship with Guilt and Shame, I've learned not to let my secrets hold me prisoner. I'm learning to see that my own desires, wants and needs are valid, and that I am equally accountable to nurturing them so that I can enjoy life's pleasures free of guilt and shame. 
• I've been traveling down memory lane these past few months, trying to reconnect with my lost self from a time long ago - trying to reconnect with her whimsical passions for reading, writing, the outdoors, debating, and reconnecting with my friends close, afar and from my childhood. By remembering my lost self, I'm remember what centers me and the destiny that I once longed for and realizing that there is no better time than the now to take those steps and go after that dream.

But from time to time, I am plagued with doubts and I fall back a few steps. There's a trigger and I experience a flashback. An acute attack of anxiety has me spinning and I feel out of control.  I fall back into old patterns of self-sabotage - eating until I am numb, wanting that pack of cigarettes, wanting oblivion, not wanting to do anything but sleep and never wake up.

This method doesn't always work. It's my mind's way of grasping control in anyway it can.

Being vulnerable is part of the process and acknowledging the root cause of the agitation and anxieties is a far better approach and method to moving forward. Intellectually, I understand this concept and that freedom can be achieved by surrendering to vulnerability, but it's still something that I struggle with internally and to put into daily practice. And as a rape victim, I struggle with that on a whole other level.

So for now, this is my perspective - by surrendering to one self, it dissipates the conflict and the feelings of agitation retreats until one is left wondering, what caused it in the first place?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
now...Now...NOW!
my mind tells me.
fly...Fly...FLY!
my instincts prompt me.
eat...Eat...EAT!
my body urges me.

...surrender, whispers the heart.

(Note: I've started reading poetry again and I thought I would use this medium to express myself.)

Spring,

It's been a long winter and I haven't looked forward to your arrival with this much anticipation in years. Winter looked as if it would stay, and yet, you've arrived with such grace and charm that your fashionably late entrance is all but forgiven and forgotten. Ah yes, the change is nothing short of refreshing.

Needless to say, during old man winter's visit, I took a little hiatus from this blog. The endless cold didn't help my mood or disposition. There were many things I wanted to explore, but I couldn't bring myself to the task of writing. And so I avoided it, leaving myself to muddle in the hole in my sidewalk. And yet, my time in the hole wasn't without progress. Something shifted while I stewed in my little rut. Nothing seismic, but significant just the same.  I now feel a sense of purpose. I feel lighter. I feel as if I've let something go...and that makes me immensely happy.

With the arrival of a new season, I'm welcoming a new challenge. For the past three weeks, I've been committed to spring cleaning, both literally and figuratively speaking. Carpet cleaning, laundering duvets, washing baseboards by hand, dusting each book on the bookshelf, decluttering, washing windows...it has been an exhilarating feeling. But spring has also inspired me to clean house within - to declutter the mess around my authentic self, to tackle my nemeses shame and guilt, and usher in the hope that this path will lead me to self-forgiveness.

Self-forgiveness has always seemed something unattainable - it is a word I have often used, heard others speak of, but never really understood. Friends and colleagues who knew of my journey have often asked me, "Do you love yourself?  Do you feel you are worthy of love?" and I would respond without hesitation, "No". Sure, I was and am grateful for the life I have and all the people connected to it, but I struggled to know how to feel love for my self - as a person and as a woman. The talk shows and their message of "You have to forgive and love yourself" weren't effective - they were words, but not an answer. Dating and finding a long-term relationship were equally hallow attempts to move forward, but I would end up feeling humiliated when men would say, "You have to loosen up," or "I want someone who can open up and be honest."

Even more heartbreaking was when I hurt someone I cared about and he blasted, "Why can't you love me?"

Because...I don't know why.  In part, because of fear and I don't trust myself.

But that isn't really an answer either. I know I am capable of love.  But how could I fully open up, commit, and give what I didn't understand? How does one self-forgive? I struggled to find inner peace in the pursuit of happiness. My Type A personality (Miss Fix-It) would silently scream at this faceless obstacle, which was often guarded by the imposing Shame and Guilt. But even if I did, I had no key, no element, no talisman to break through the obstacle.

I don't know what prompted me to buy the book Radical Self-Forgiveness by Colin Tipping, but this has been one of my self-help books that has sat on my coffee table collecting dust for years. Back then and up to a few months ago, I believed I would "get to it, one day." Well, I finally "got to it," and I have found the resource that provides me the perspectives and exercises to help me maneouver through this maze of self-forgiveness. To start, Tipping offers this perspective in what is required in forgiveness:

The term forgiveness implies that there has to be one who forgives as well as the one being forgiven. It requires a subject (the forgiver) and an object (the forgiven)...When we are forgiving others, that condition is met...but not so with self-forgiveness. [With self-forgiveness] The one who forgives (subject) and the one being forgiven (object) are one and the same...in acting as both the forgiver and the forgiven, we are trying to be prosecutor, judge, jury, witness and defendant all in the same case!

Ah yes, our inner court system with all the personalities that run the inner working of our mind, heart and spirit. Tipping identifies three members of our internal committee:

1. The resident judge: has the loudest voice, always says you are wrong, why you feel the weight of guilt
2. The critical parent: always scolding, withholding love as punishment, shames you, self-esteem suppressor
3. The inner lover: lives in your heart, loves you, tolerant, forgiving, compassionate, mediator

In learning about the interactions of these three sub-personalities, the words about the critical parent spoke to me the most and I realized, it was the secret that I have kept from myself for a long time:

Secret Reveal #7: I don't love myself because I withhold love as a punishment.

It's such a simple thought and perspective and yet, it held the power to shoot me out of my hole in the sidewalk like a cannonball. And I've landed on my feet. I admit, throughout much of life, I have done things to seek validation and approval from others, but I've never been able to do that for my self. This awareness has provided me unravel my past beliefs and begin remapping things with this new perspective. It's like playing a video game and I've gained a "power-up" for my healing journey. Self-forgiveness and loving my self no longer seem so daunting a challenge, but something possible and attainable.

And like the arrival of spring, the arrival of this new Self is refreshing.

I like to write. I don't know if I love it. Perhaps it's more that I need to write. It's a means to sort out my thoughts and feelings - deriving perspective and clarity out of the chaos that I concoct around me. Writing started as a 3rd grade assignment, and I would write about anything and everything - I took to paper like a fish to water. Thoughts, words, expressions, descriptions, plots, character, observations - I would fill out the pages of my notebooks.

Do you have your own set of commandments that you follow?

Yesterday marked the 24th anniversary of the National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women.  For years, I've observed this day with detached deference - always thinking of the 14 women, the police officer who responded to the call only to learn that his own daughter was one of the victims, and the senselessness and selfish act of one man.

I think of all the other women who have suffered or survived violence and I would send out a silent prayer of love and courage out to the universe.  Oddly, I would never include myself - my blinkers of denial and shame kept me from seeing or feeling things.  I was 14 years old when the Montreal massacre took place, and I remember reading and watching the news with avid attention. It was sensational, and all the news media were on fire. It was a defining time as a teen - this was something closer to home - it wasn't Hollywood and the reality of it was there was a collective sense of innocence lost. Little did I know then, a few weeks after this event, danger lurked in the shadows and I would experience the first of a series of unwanted sexual attention and manipulation, setting in motion my patterns of disassociation, secrets and hyper-vigilance.

But this year has been different and as I thought of the women, I felt a stronger sense of solidarity and ownership of the significance of this day.  It's as if the cloaks of shame and guilt have fallen off my shoulders so that I can stand with the other women.  For the first time, my heart, mind and soul shout out in unison, "I refuse to accept any more of it."  I am not alone in my suffering.  I was/am a victim of a violent act.  I was/am a victim of manipulation. And further more, I no longer want to be silent.

I'm reminded of the song The Reason by Hoobastank.  It is one of my anthem songs. My therapist had me memorize the lyrics, repeat the words over and over again and letting them touch an emotional place within.  In the beginning, this song would bring forth a flood of tears and pain, but now I find solace, reassurance and hope:

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you.
I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you.

Changing my own personal narrative of my circumstances has helped me to see things with greater clarity.  I feel more grounded.  I feel more assured than I have ever been in years as I continue to confront my past and my present so that what comes next will be a better tomorrow.

I was wrong...starting the second post is harder than the first. I've no outline for this blog, and being that I'm still new to all this, it's taking me a little while to find my own narrative voice.

I've kept a journal since I was 8 years old. So you'd think I'd know my own voice after 30 years of writing. But with my journal, i'm writing with only one reader in mind - myself. For work, I write a lot, but I often "borrow" other people's voices - I get in and get comfortable in someone else's mind, bringing to life their artistic visions and intentions.

But here, it's different.

I had a friend who used to perform in coffee houses covering popular rock and pop songs. He had a beautiful voice with this ability to sound like the artists who performed them -  an expressive Bono, to a raw and gritty Eddie Vedder. I asked him once if he would be performing any of his original songs. He replied, "No. I've been covering songs for so long that I don't know what my own voice sounds like." At the time, I thought that was a ridiculous answer, but I get it now.

When you keep secrets, the stories you share don't always mirror what you really want to say. For me, I coped by self-censoring everything I said, what I expressed, what I voiced. Most of the time, the narrative remained at surface level, and I navigated the world by presenting different voices and facets of myself. I've been doing this for so long that digging to find my own voice beneath all the layers of secrets, shame, guilt, and anxiety has been challenging.

A few years ago, I participated in a vocal workshop lead by Tyley Ross, a Grammy nominated recording artist, co-founder of the East Village Opera Company, and an instructor of voice at NYU's Tisch and Steinhardt schools. I was a classically trained opera singer in my youth, but a friend recommended that I take Tyley's workshop as a refresher. His approach to voice was different and required a greater awareness of body, thought and feelings. One of his exercises required everyone in the workshop to anonymously submit a secret. Each student was then assigned someone else's secret  for study and vocalization. We walked around the room freely, vocalizing in different ways - whispers, hisses, fast, slow, articulated, emotively. We said the secrets under our breaths, we said them to one another as we passed each other, we said them to the walls, we sang them.

The purpose of the exercise was to not let the body and mind hold you back from vocalizing what we would instinctively internalize. I don't remember the secret that was assigned to me - I never embraced it as my own. But I do remember feeling quite self-conscious yet detached when I ended up face to face with the person assigned with my secret. At the time, I didn't truly understand or appreciate Tyley's workshop - to give into the process and express, confront and release what holds us back or is blocking our lost voices. In hindsight, the secret I submitted was quite superficial in comparison to the others. But at the time, it reflected where I was at in my own personal journey and what I was coming to terms with.

Secret reveal #2 - My secret submitted for the voice workshop - "I'm in love with a clown."

Yup, that's what he does for a living - he works in a circus - red nose, clown costume, mini-bike, juggling, etc. There's a story there too, but that's for another day, another post...

My first blog entry, and I have writer's block already...

I'm overwhelmed by the sheer number of stories I want to explore, but on a journey of healing towards the authentic self, where does one start?

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step ~ Proverb."

Many steps and missteps later, I still find myself on a winding tunnel by myself. Seldom have I invited others to join or follow me, preferring to believe I could do this alone. I would often say to myself, "If uncle Yanagi could climb Mount Everest at 71 years, 2 months and 2 days and break the then-Guinness World Record as the oldest climber to summit Everest, then my little hurdles should be manageable." As a young adult I would rely on my inner "Xena, Warrior Princess" to get me through my self doubts, fortified by the day-time talk shows of Oprah, Montel Williams, Dr. Phil and the likes.

And yet, considering how long I've been on this journey, my steps haven't brought me any closer to my own personal summit. I've faltered. Many times. My untouched self-help books "decorate" my coffee table. I'm plagued by the "why's & how's" of things. I see behavioural patterns repeat themselves but feel powerless to break the cycle. From time to time, I've been able to see life from different angles and perspectives, gaining those precious insight that help propel me to fight for a more fulfilling life.

A few incidents over the past few years however almost derailed me from my journey. But they've also provided the strongest reasons and motivations for taking steps outside of my comfort zone: to seek help, to be honest with myself and to commit to ME. One night in particular, after living through a terrifying experience, I became aware of an emotional regression and a familiar sense of detachment. I don't remember too much of the post-incident experience, but I do remember feeling as if I was teetering on a fence and needing to do something to "fix me". So I called the local crisis centre and made an appointment. In the beginning, I felt extremely awkward in my sessions. I even tried to justify why I didn't need to be there, believing that a few sessions talking to a professional would be sufficient enough to prop me up, validate me and then I could continue along my jolly runway of life.

With a lot of encouragement, I found myself delving deeper, the angles and perspectives slowly coming into focus. Some truths are hard to face but when they crystallize, it feels so right. For me, I realized that I've kept hidden so many "secrets" which were the very reasons for my inability to fully embrace my authentic self and live the satisfied life I so desperately desired. Armed with this honest view of myself, I began re-reading one of those self-help books I haven't been able to finish ~ The 100 Simple Secrets of Happy People by David Niven, Ph.D. Within the second paragraph of the introduction, I was struck by a saying from the author's psychology professor, Harry Gilman:

"Why play 'I got a secret' your entire life?"

Bazinga! Why do I play these games with myself? This phrase grounded my sense of being and gave me the momentum to share and reveal my secrets during my sessions and uncover things about myself. But outside in my daily life, I still felt like I a fake. I then came across Frank Warren's video on TED about his Post Secret project, inviting people to reveal their most deepest or embarrassing secrets anonymously. He begins his talk with this perspective:

"There are two kinds of secrets, the ones we hide from others, and those we keep from ourselves." 

Double bazinga! I felt like the window was flung wide open for me to see further out into the world and for the first time, i really sensed that my steps were leading me down the right path. I knew I kept secrets from others, and from this new angle, I began to understand the truths i had kept hidden from myself. This would be one of the many revelations to a stronger authentic self - standing between the inner me guarding all my secrets and the outer me who did her best to portray the successful Type A woman, but my life would never be whole unless I could merge the two selves. The Post Secret project and its anonymity offered one approach for a release. But in hiding a secret, one secret begets another, and another, and another...and that would require a lot of postcards to send to Frank Warren. So instead, I chose the personal blog option, determined to find my own creative ways to document and give voice to my inner stories. Knowing that I leave myself vulnerable and exposed has me terrified and a little anxious, but I also can't deny the sense of excitement and strong sense of purpose. I also know, the alternative to stay in a rut controlled by fear is simply no longer an option.

So which secret to reveal first? Well, lets take that first step:
Secret reveal #1 ~ I am a victim of child abuse, date rape and rape.