Brick Walls 2

•August 21, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Part II of an almost-song called “Brick Walls”.  Part 1 is HERE

Brick Walls 2

August 20, 2016

(And then)

The vulnerability of it snuck up on me

Out in the open where anyone and everyone

I might see has the capacity

To misunderstand; to help or hinder me

And at night, with only the stars to guide

Life kept reminding me of the possibility

That I just might have all I need

And during the day, life is well – life is okay.

Even if at times it feels like war

I know I’m not alone anymore

My community of love and I know what we’re fighting for

Out in the open, in the day and at night

Fighting our way through the dark and the light

at every opportunity,

from within… as far as the eye can see

without walls…

with occasional stumbles…

and all we need.

Brick Walls

•July 21, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Brick walls

With just one more line, this might one day become a song:


I beat against brick walls for days and for nights

before a crack or two, I thought I could sneak through

shone brightly in my eyes like dentistry lights

in a dark, dark room.

One part at a time, I tried so hard to squeeze

a painfully confused version of the truth

into a tiny hole not built for bodies

between pain and proof.

And while camped out there, I breathed in all kinds of air

fresh and stale sighs, the “whats, wheres and whys”

Carried by the wind from all sides…

Growing a Healing (Part 2): The Opposite of Force

•July 16, 2016 • 1 Comment

Ease.  Relaxation.  Going with a new flow.

The opposite of force feels like letting go.

Sounds like a vacation, except that making peace with injury is an uncomfortable reality that can be, well, uncomfortable.  And there is Pain and there are Possibilities

So what is the opposite of force, really?  The best way to articulate it is no force.

Pumpkin bloom

It took a while before I got my hands on a copy of the CT scan from Concordia Hospital and saw not only one herniated spinal disc, compressing a nerve root (which my MD had explained as the catalyst for pain and numbness) but Discs plural, bulging & herniated.  Not just one area (L4-L5) but also L3-L4 and L5-S1… a bit of a mess.  And there were other unwelcome signs of “wear and tear”, both evident and suspected in the notes from the person who saw my spine, up close and personal.  It would seem that for the first month and a half that I was injured, some additional damage occurred.  It would seem that some of this damage was not a one time thing but accumulated over a longer time.  And I was sad for my body.

Rib Release

When discussing injury and pain, a trusted therapist once told me to “just be with it”.  Don’t run around it or try to avoid it.  Make peace with where you are.”

When I am gardening, I can “just be” with my plants and even though I have no horticultural education whatsoever, they communicate with me  And when I (sorta kinda) understand what they need, I know what to do to help them along.

It was harder to decipher what my body wanted from me.  I had to learn to speak it’s new language and it was communicated in a strange code.

I stopped writing for a while.  I stopped making forceful efforts to understand and deal with what was going on and went into some silence and stillness when it was possible.  I took the recommended drugs and did other natural things to promote healing and wellness, but spent little time reflecting on being creative or doing anything, really, other than heal.

Wake up, day 45, drink coffee, check to do list: 1) HEAL.  2) Anything else that fits in.


A “vacation” like this gets very boring and after a while, my real “to do” list eventually got the best of me.  Panic was easy to find when I was confronted with some harsh realities that felt like brick walls.  But balance has been most evident on the days when I can be both still and creative, or neither.

When I can heal and also find space for the two biggest aspects of the thing I call a “career” (making music and helping others make music); into which I throw my heart and soul, I feel successful.  And for them to happen well, I really, really rely on my body.  And it was not well, friends.  For months it was not even close.  It was significantly worse than the first time I felt “disc”.  In fact… this has been the most difficult recovery of my life.

Almost Vines

Once upon a time, I was guided by effort.  Anything that was good would surely come as the result of “effort-ing” in some direction. Now, I have a different definition of what POSITIVE effort is and feel more guided by the concept of feeling better, even incrementally.  I used to believe that hard work was necessary for success and that gain was (largely) arrived at through pain.  Injuries have taught me otherwise.  And I’m honestly wondering if the pursuit of feeling good, if striving to feel even a little better is the real work of life.

My body likes to be mobile and has become increasingly flexible.  It once did things like run, rollerblade, dance workouts and yoga.  After the first time I experienced a spinal disc injury three years ago, the only one of these activities I continued to do was yoga.  I couldn’t run without pain for years and had trouble building up exercise bike time and with other things like dancing and even simple movements in Tai Chi.  And I learned a lot of other techniques for relieving tension that I employed to a nearly compulsive degree on occasion.

It has become increasingly evident that this initial indication of my spine’s weakest link never healed properly the first time around.  One therapist described a “guitar string” of tension that remained from the left side of my neck to my right hip.  Though a plethora of different therapies and conditioning, my body learned how to carry and play an accordion and eventually learned how to ride Dad’s heavy 1982 Honda 900 motorcycle.  But there was that ever present tension… always daily tension to alleviate in order to feel good enough to enjoy life and do all that I want to do musically.  It was like I just couldn’t get strong enough to feel good.  Despite sporadic increase in core strength, a dependency on performing straight-legged stretches to take pressure out of my low back and hips (particularly the right side) was ever-present.  Until now.


So after the hospital, I was forced to relax.  There wasn’t much else I could do.  Lay on belly, get up, move around slowly, lay back down.  Muscles and nerves were able to chill out and rejuvenate a bit.  And, wildly and wonderfully, the guitar string of tension let go.  (Imagine a physical version of the “twang” of a broken string. I imagine that is the sound my body would have emanated as I lay on the cot in Emerg for hours and hours… a sound that echoed for weeks.)

Now (more than two months later), I feel an evenness throughout my body that I haven’t felt in years.  Despite initial diagnoses like “herniated” and “bulging” discs, I feel stable most of the time.  As though left and right sides of my body are working together better and more often than not.  Could it be that my body is correcting itself?  The response of medical professionals has been that it makes perfect sense.


I knew there was value in this, but I really didn’t know how much.  I have a chance at health – a real chance!  But real health must be allowed if it is to be enjoyed, so I’m doing all that I can to help things along.

I saw my blood cells and some of them were in better shape than others.  Testing revealed low absorption of sodium and proteins as well as super low cholesterol (which apparently are all kind of a big deal for the body’s ability to rebuild spinal material).  Helping myself absorb all the good things I eat and drink was step 1.

Switching to Athletic Therapy was a very large and deliberate step 2.  This is only my first week and already I have learned so much about the way my body wasn’t moving correctly during certain movements in Physiotherapy and how to properly accomplish other things I’ve done before or haven’t tried.  Before this, I was doing my best to find that postural sweet spot and keep the evenness in my body, but it was a lot more difficult without the right help.  And laser therapy is doing amazing things for the nerve root in my back and numbness in my foot and leg, both of which are slowly and steadily improving.  Which is great, because I would like to eventually feel ALL of my nerves once again, thank you very much!  If I say no to activities that will harm me or inhibit the healing process, that feels like I am telling my body it is valuable.

As the climb toward total wellness continues, I’m pacing myself with slow, gradual increases by acute awareness of every movement I make.  I’m learning how to heal even better than ever and I think life is about to get a lot more fun!

I just have to stay balanced.  To listen to how my body responds and decide to feel better and better.  After all, it would be so nice if this were the last time I had to find myself in this injured position.  And it would be amazing to attend for an MRI scan in December and have it show no abnormalities whatsoever.  (I think it’s possible!)

Although it can feel like my world has become a blur of appointments and controlled movements, of stretching and icing… it’s worth finding out how well I can be.  And my body is worth protecting, caring for and helping.   Like my plants.


My plants are… OK.  Perennials are doing better than seedlings.  They are in good soil, being watered and occasionally fertilized and are alive, but not huge.  I think using peat pots when I sowed some seeds somehow inhibited their growth, even slightly.  But my plants are flowering (some are even fruiting) and they’re coming along.  And I’m cool with that.  They can bloom whenever they feel like it and lots of them are in bloom.  Caring for them with good posture and slow pace is healing me.  So it’s okay that they took seemingly forever (most of the summer so far) to plant and their growth can be slow for a while, until the next time it rains and their roots can run even deeper.


Last month, I performed in Steinbach and Gimli in the same weekend; both are approximately an hour drive from Winnipeg.  It was difficult for many reasons and although there was some recovery afterward, two good things were realized as a result of this experiment.  The direction of tension in my body shifted and I felt what it was like for the disc’s position to change and the “guitar string” to exist from right (opposite) neck to left (opposite) hip in a major way.  Although this felt like an annoying irritation in the healing process, it served to confirm that the sensation of the disc not healing properly years ago is both familiar and correctible.  And after some treatments from some therapists, evenness has returned.  This also proved that I can build up my driving tolerance by taking frequent, timed breaks… which gave me the confidence to move toward my plans for August.

Next month I’m scheduled to do a series of songwriting workshops, programs, mentoring sessions and performances with RuBarb Productions in Moose Jaw, SK… before being joined by Claire Bestland for some performances in Alberta.  I am so happy to be moving toward these great things!  But they will involve some stretching of limitations and for a while I was undecided about them.  But now, with the right supports in place, I believe I can do so while maintaining balance and without putting my health at risk.  Which is great news for many reasons – the main one being that this is my dream: I want to travel the world and share the music I’ve created while helping others create their own.  And August is a great opportunity to incorporate both aspects of my career into two Provinces.  But it is the only journey of it’s kind that I’m willing to pursue until the healing of my spine is complete.  Or at least, until moving in this expansive direction creates more excitement than anxiety.  Which is easiest when I look at all of the great things that are on the way.  (See the FULL list at

Summer Dates

My sisters were recently in town with my nieces, who gave me the gift of a beautiful arena for positive motion in my own back yard when they painted my garden.

I look at it while I water the plants or exercise, stretch and do Tai Chi.  It reminds me that artistic expression is the most natural thing in the world, that my desire to bend and move and create with the ease of a child is a viable dream, and that it is a dream that exists in a profound way on the other side of this.  But however it exists, it definitely exists in a state of balance.

Tonight, I’ll perform in Gimli again (With Mitch Dorge at The Ship & Plough Gastropub – tell your friends!) but this time I know how to stay more balanced.  And starting tomorrow I get to Fringe with some truly awesome people!  (Catch my student, Aydin and I at Kids Fringe in Winnipeg on Sunday at 6pm.)

Garden paint

Some aspects of my current limitations and challenges are particularly frustrating.  I don’t like arguing for them, but explaining the realities of where I’m at is sometimes necessary.  The healing of the partially numb nerve in my foot and leg is evidenced by nighttime (sometimes daytime) burning and other uncomfortable realities.  But it also tells me honestly and with certainty how much moving I’ve done each day.

I am doing my best to focus more on what I want and love than the undesirable truths, while continuing to see wellness in my future.  I can see myself running, rollerblading, trampolining and doing Nia dance workouts again.  And maybe one day carrying my own child around in my belly… with great core strength and without pain.  I am daring to trust that my cells do, in fact, know what to do and that in the absence of pressure or resistance, with the right challenges, they will regenerate completely and heal.  For good.  No more of this “I wake up feeling almost healthy, BUT” tension.  I am also in daily pursuit of the delicate balance between believing the best and letting go of the schedule.

I can believe that I am strong and also that I don’t have to be as strong as I want to be TODAY.  I can believe that one day, I will once again feel what it’s like to ride a bike, run, dance and move without fear, while not putting one ounce of pressure on when those things will happen.

The opposite of force, for me, is allowing.


And allowing healing is very much like allowing a small child to grow.  The moment-by-moment schedule often seems equally demanding.

So.  Here are a few of the daily activities that help me allow healing to happen:

  • Sleep hard
  • Listen to a physical well being meditations while making the morning coffee
  • Eat fruit
  • Take herbs to help with inflammation and regulation of B vitamins, trace minerals and super oils
  • Do 5 out of the 8 moves in a stretch called “Ba Duan Jin” (one day I’ll be able to do all 8 again)
  • Do assisted squats, hip bridges, dead bug (ab exercises) and dead lifts (2-3 x a day)
  • Drink chlorophyl water
  • Take more herbs (and sometimes a drug) with lunch
  • Drink green “Water water” tea from my Acupuncturist to help my spleen
  • Walk around the block (x ?)
  • Stretch out hips (x ?)
  • Do back bend and cobra movements (x ?)
  • Take more herbs with probiotics at bed time
  • Appointments:
    • Chiro (2 x weekly)
    • Athletic Therapy (2 x weekly)
    • Acupuncture (weekly)
    • MD and other appointments (occasionally)

Aaaaand… I’m also somehow keeping my business running which involves making a lot of music and a lot of communication happening in between all of this.  Which is an impossible schedule for any human to attain.

Which is why last week, I lost it.  (Emotionally.)  A bunch of times.  I felt the full weight of how incredibly hard this has been.  And my physical balance teetered, but did not topple.

Vines Insta

Last weekend, before remembering the anniversary of my Dad’s death, I made a conscious and focused decision to relax.  Like after the hospital.  And I was able to “just be” with one day at a time.  There has been some pressure that feels like responsibility, but has indicated fear.  And fear is not allowing.  I believe it prevents recovery.  So I drove less and walked more, worked less physically and more with emotion.  I admired plants and laid in grass and moved gently.  And this week, I began increasing my driving time with the intention of creating as much ease as possible while travelling next month.

I cannot express enough how much I have truly valued the help, encouragement and understanding of good friends throughout the last 3.5 months.  Thank you to everyone who has driven me somewhere or lifted my piano, amplifier, merch bag, guitar(s) or anything else that I have chosen to abstain from.  Thanks for hugs from caring people and uplifting conversations with all kinds of relations who love me.

Thank you to everyone who can envision me riding my motorcycle (which is actually Dad’s motorcycle, who is named Betty) instead of using her to dry herbs.  Think of me running, friends, with my partner’s eventual-puppy.  And think of me dancing like no one is watching and riding Harleys (not at the same time) and that is what we will see.

Betty (me)Betty (dad)

Betty (herbs)

With so many young people graduating last month, I felt myself experiencing emotions similar to those of their endings and beginnings.  There is a definite shift in my understanding of what full health and feeling good (not just “OK”) will be like in my body.  I feel my future and it is pretty awesome.  I’m moving toward it every day!  I’m done with “guitar strings of tension” and learning to believe that there is no reason why I shouldn’t be able to experience a strong, active life at the end of a full recovery.  But I’m also learning that the process will look different than I thought it would, that calmness is a superpower and that there will be strength-building, but no force.  There will be allowing of frustration and tears, but no complaining or looking back.  There will be stretching, but not compulsively or in a state of panic to release tension.  I will relax.  There will be ease.  I will repeat the mantra of “no force” and I will accept all the help offered to me while remembering, again and again that the real battle is in my own mind; with my own thoughts and words.  It is a battle I can win over and over again by focusing more on the desired end result than pain, struggle, or the many challenges involved along the way.  I can be grateful in this process and hopeful more than I despair.  And therein lies my power.  Maybe I knew it all along.

And now, I’ve shared a new song called “Valedictorian” that encompasses this part of my story.


It’s hard not to feel rushed at times… I would like to feel stronger now, please.  And in the mean time, I would like to avoid confessing injury whenever possible.  (Talking about it often doesn’t help.)  But balance, evenness and peace with reality (however comfortable or uncomfortable) are coming easier every day.  If I can do it, maybe we call can too.




•July 12, 2016 • 1 Comment


April 20 – May 20, 2016

Well hello.  Who are you?  I’ll take any distraction to avoid hearing the whole truth, when you lie (*intentional misspelling) in my bed at night.

I’m aware.  I know you’re there.  The language you’re speaking sounds only like sirens inside of my mind, but I’m your only audience.

And I have other things to do than be the only one listening to you.

So goodbye.  I won’t try to relearn all my lessons, earning the same degree twice.  Once will suffice, like I said in my valedictory address and besides…

The real me just wants to spend all my time speaking the language of “do, do, do, doo…”

This is what I do.

And I have other stuff I want to do, than be the only one listening, listening and listening…

Well hello.  Who are you?  I’ll take any inspiration and follow it endlessly to wherever you want me to.

And my eyes might have to cry.  But tears have such meaning and come from a place of just trying to live life.  And in time they will dry, while I do what I do.

Growing a Healing: In Pursuit of Wellness

•May 22, 2016 • Leave a Comment


I have learned how to seek and find value in many things.  And I have come to believe that we often get better at doing this through facing the challenging difficulties life has to offer.  This concept recently inspired a song called “Pain and Possibilities” and has become more profound to me than ever through an unexpected injury.

Last year’s Renegade release was, to me, empowering proof that I had “written the book” on this subject; deciding to carefully assess tools within my own hands and make something of my choosing with them (in a world that would rather we make something else and often presents conflicting circumstances).  I made art out of some immensely difficult things that I expressed and expressed until I was healthy and pursuing a joyful, celebratory lifestyle!

There was obviously so much more for me to learn; more value to uncover through a significant amount of pain.

Just before Easter weekend, a very nice young man backed into my parked car while I was sitting in it, with the force of a medium high five.  No damage… just the outline of my license plate in the dust.  Two days later, I sneezed while sitting at my desk and felt the word “disc” cross my mind as a wave of familiar pain rippled through my body.  As I became increasingly less mobile in the hours, days and weeks that followed, therapists confirmed and I finally realized that what I was experiencing was caused by the world’s most gentle motor vehicle accident.  (Maybe not statistically the most gentle, but it felt that way.)  And it does make sense, considering that this is not the only accident my body has recovered from.  I believe this one is the seventh.  Hearing that usually makes people wince.

I didn’t want to be car accident girl anymore.  I was so enjoying telling people about how strong, healthy and capable I was feeling after losing so much empowerment when the last accident took place.  I can now acknowledge how much fear I used to hold onto.  Fear of this injury recurring, of losing my physical strength again, of being so out of control.

In April, I started experiencing sciatica (excruciating pain in the body’s largest nerve).  It became clear that Chiropractic, Acupuncture and Massage treatment weren’t fixing the problem on their own. I saw a Physiotherapist who manually rotated my hip back into place after telling me it was positioned too far forward.  It took some pressure off.  The sciatic pain was somewhat alleviated.  And I felt relieved that my earlier “disc” feeling was wrong; grateful to have such seemingly positive results.  The pain took breaks and I could think more clearly.  So I allowed him to do the same movements again the following week.

Two days after hip move #2, I was in the worst pain of my life, and my foot and lower leg went partially numb.  Unable to walk or drive, I visited the Emergency room at Concordia Hospital.  They called my name for triage, I made a sudden movement toward gathering my things and having my Mom help me toward the window when my lower back went into spasm and I collapsed.  Incidentally, the next words out of my mouth were, “I’m fine”.  Which by now, I knew full well was not true.


A CT scan came later and revealed a herniated disc in my spine (between L4 and L5) that compressed a nerve root, which in turn caused sciatica and eventual numbness in my lower right foot and leg.  Not a great diagnosis for anyone to receive, but my inner being rejoiced at the restoration of trust between my body and I.

“I was on the mark. I know what to do. I’ve done this before. Now we can move forward!”

The good news is that this will heal.  The good news is that I have time to recover.  The good news is that my mobility is increasing now, instead of decreasing.  And that I never lost it completely.  The good news is that I can walk and stretch and ice and a thousand other cumulatively healthy things that are causing a surge of wellness in my body.  I can play instruments and run all my music programs!  The good news is that my body and I are communicating better and it is responding well to the relaxation and recovery I am pursuing.

The bad news is something I am focusing on less and less.

Far from being in denial, this is more about working with that which can be controlled as opposed to wasting time on the uncontrollable or giving attention to that which is unwanted.  At first I was more reluctant in this arena… but it has become easier to care for my body with all the love I have offered to my baby plants as we grow stronger together.  If one of them looks too hot or dry or big for it’s pot, it is of no benefit to them if I lament lost leaves or growth or strength without taking initiative to provide water, shade, pruning or repotting.  Whatever can move things forward in a positive direction!  I like to imagine that the health of my spine outgrew it’s current container and needed a new, healthier alternative.  Realistically, it needed even more care.

Plant Babies

My Dad was a pro when it came to silencing his own fear and pain by intensely focusing on better feeling thoughts.  I don’t think he was always quite so professional though – I think when it came to emotional pain, he was quite expressive and open for most of his life about how bad it felt to feel bad.  But cancer gave him an opportunity to learn this new skill and I’m so glad I was able to absorb so much from watching his recovery, relapse and death.

I observed him ignoring “energy vampires”, refusing to complain and making jokes with nurses that made everyone’s day a little brighter.  I thought of this while watching puppy videos on my cellphone with my partner in the ER and made sure to show gratitude to some very awesome medical staff for their kindness.

I saw Dad learn to ask for help by asking for help; gradually accepting his limitations as well as the help that was offered while they increased.  I have recently relied on some great coworkers, students, colleagues and friends to help me lift things that do not serve me to carry and drive me around while it is less than beneficial for me to drive myself.

And although Dad’s eventual diagnosis was a near death experience from the start, who knows how long any of us really have here anyway.  Maybe thinking like today might be our last is ultimately the wisest and most beneficial thing to do.  It made me compulsively wonder what I would do with full health, if and when it were available to me for the rest of my life…


While going through notes for a workshop I’m to deliver at a conference next week, I came across this:

“Asking… defining “what we like / don’t like” and “what we want / don’t want” is how we make all major life decisions and is at the heart of artistic development. It’s how creativity happens. The ability to do it quickly is essential to operating at genius levels.”

I have been saying for a while that injuries have helped me to focus more on what I love, desire and want than ever before, because I’ve had to put forth more effort in this direction than I ever have due to the “inspiration” of pain.  This injury has also proven just how much I learned from spending so much time in recovery in the past.  Ways to take care of myself, deeply relax, tune out negativity and be receptive to learning while enjoying life as much as possible.  I’m now making better decisions more quickly, responding to my body’s communication with more confidence and ignoring that which does not fit within that framework.

Today I did some (slow, careful) Tai Chi movements in my back yard with great delight.  And I’m writing from my lawn-office where I am thoroughly enjoying time spent with birds, bugs, plants, sun and shade.  And with the resurfacing of occasional pain, there is the sincere thankfulness that it is intermittent and decreasing in intensity and frequency.
Lawn Office

I’m choosing to release emotions that need to find their way out.  I’m grieving losses like time and energy and mostly, the moments I have turned against myself during this process.  (A practice I have intended to abandon for good so many times.)  The compassion of others has become less important as I continually find my way back to self compassion.  (I wrote a whole blog on that called: “The Accordion and the Motorcycle.“)

My backyard garden was my training ground last time I found myself in this arena and I have no doubt this season will prove the same.  It takes practice to do all the various movements required to care for plants… with great care, correct posture and pace; between resting, stretching and walking.  But I’ve been doing it in small doses, and I believe it is healing me.  I know it is.  And the plants are thriving, which is a bonus.

I’ve always been a quick healer but this time around, I can almost feel real love healing me.    And I now know the value in all of this.  It’s not about being grateful FOR pain, but finding reasons to celebrate, love and enjoy life regardless of its presence or absence.

I’m writing a new song that will soon be ready to share.  (It began in my head when I couldn’t even make it over to the piano to play.)  It’s about turning inward, communication and the empowering realization that my Dad was right when he said, “you have all you need to become all you desire”.  It’s also about the moment of decision to turn away from pain and toward the creative process of defining your own existence.  Of writing your own story.  Of living on purpose and with deliberate, creative energy.  It’s called Valedictorian (something I have never been in real life)…  and it’s coming soon.

I don’t think it’s coincidental that I recently felt compelled to re-read Amanda Palmer’s book, “The Art of Asking”, which reminded me of the necessity of asking in order to move forward toward these ends with great courage.  It’s by asking and receiving more than I had been at the time of this injury, that I have been able to focus and dream and envision how the value that I’m finding through all of this will contribute toward the future that is before me.

CD & Book

At this time last year, I was counting down the final days before Renegade’s release.  (It’s an album & companion book with it’s very own dedicated blog space here: “Renegade IS“.)

My next performance this year is on June 1st at a very cool new music sharing event: Joe Curtis & Guests / Open mic night!  I’m looking forward to playing new music, Renegade music and all that I’ve been creating in between.  There are Festivals around the corner and I could not be more excited to be back on the road again with Claire Bestland.  (Catch us in Alberta in August!)

This is only some of all the awesomeness that 2016 has to offer, but my healing journey is not quite complete.  If you want to help, picture my cells regenerating.  I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes crazy things have crazy results and besides, it can’t hurt.  I believe it is possible and that the regeneration of my spine is already happening, as evidenced by signs that my damaged nerve is coming back “online”.  (Yesss!)

You can help by envisioning some of the insanely awesome plans I have for my future… including yoga, motorcycle riding, music making and lots of music sharing all over the world!  One day, I want to be able to do yoga with my children and dance and play like I’m in a Prince video in my kitchen between tours.  I want to enjoy every moment with the man I love and build our dream lives together with strength and passion and patience and so much more…

And now I’m ready.  I can see the picture of my future health more clearly than ever and know exactly how I will enjoy it.  Not only that, but in the mean time I’m enjoying the process of what I want becoming reality.  In other words, “up here, I’m already there”.  And I hope you are too.  If not, I’ll leave you with some words from “The Sound of Water” – a song by my girlfriend, Sarah Slean:

“When the light is hard to find, when you’re walking blind you only need to change your mind.”


We’d Be Birds

•May 7, 2016 • 1 Comment

We'd Be Birds

If everyone who knows how to fly taught everyone who knows what to sing

We’d be birds, we’d be birds and not silent or motionless.

If everyone with a song in their heart played it out loud for no reason at all

We’d be birds, we’d be birds; we’d be free and not repressed.

And oh, the wind is calling and calling out your name

I know, once you try you will not be the same

If everyone with a heart in their chest shared it with someone who feels worth less

We’d be birds and we would not be alone again.

And oh, the wind is calling and calling out your name

I know, once you try you will not be the same (just try, you will not be the same)

If everyone who knows how to fly taught everyone who knows what to sing

we’d be birds…

In Motion

•April 23, 2016 • Leave a Comment

In Motion

April 14, 2016

In the race against self, no champion emerges.

Either you go with the flow and slow or you

trip, fall, fail

break, bend, say “no”.

Then you must stop before you can go back to being

in motion; heading toward an imaginary finish line that becomes a starting line once crossed.


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