I had no choice but to bloom

  Okay, I had a choice.  Each of us have a choice, but there was something inside of me that said...  It's time to bloom.  You have to.  You CAN.  This is the only choice.  Do you know what I'm talking about?  You know that moment when we have a choice to show up or shrink,  run or stay, be big or stay small, shine or hide?  It was scary and I wanted to run but my feet planted into the ground with a stance that said, "You got this!"  My ego was violently shaking its ugly head no but my soul was screaming yes...  "you are loved, you are supported, and it's time to shine."  So...  I had no choice but to bloom because it was my time to shine, to step into the light, and bloom.

Let me back up.  2014 went out with a bang.  The unraveling began in September 2014 and it seemed to only get worse as the months went on.  My employment was in jeopardy.  I'm a single mom who is self-employed, so as you can imagine, this caused an initial panic inside me that I can't describe.  I had to remind myself several times that I am supported and loved by the universe.  Again my ego went into overdrive raising the red flags of self-doubt, fear, and anxiety but all the while my soul calmly waited for me to get centered and to trust that there was a plan in place bigger than me.  There are a few things that I am VERY passionate about, my work as a life skills coach is one of them.  I know that I won't do this work forever, but right now I am where I am supposed to be and I love the work.  And I'm really good at it.  So as I waited to hear whether I could still be a self-employed mom, who is available to her children, another bomb dropped....

My step-father died.  Hello October.  Thanks for your warm welcome.  Glenn had been a part of my life since I was a small child.  My parents divorced when I was five and my mom married him when I was seven, so yes he was a large part of my life.  It wasn't always love, sunshine, and rainbows though.  Maybe I'll leave that for another post, but what I will say is this...  it took me a LONG time to love him and he patiently waited.  He loved me dearly and I'm grateful that he waited for my love because the feeling was mutual.  Death is so hard...  it's a reminder to love madly, live in the moment, and hug the ones you love everyday because tomorrow may never come.  While still grieving this huge loss another bomb dropped...

"Toni, I have cancer."  What?  Really?  Are you sure mom?  I hadn't even made it through October when this enormous bomb dropped.  Is this really happening?  November and December were a little bit of a blur...  mom had surgery, was in and out of the hospital a few times before the year ended, thanksgiving, Christmas, grief and loss.  It was a hurricane and I was being swept up in its fierce winds.

I wanted the year to end and I welcomed the new year with open arms hoping for something better.  For the time being I was still able to do the work I loved and feel passionate about, so that was a plus.  Then I received an email from my BFF, Karin, on January 18th.  A little over a year ago now.....  wow time flies!  The subject line read:  "It's your lucky day, my dear!! xo"  When I clicked on the email I had NO idea what was in store for me or how drastically my life would change in the upcoming year.  Karin had entered my name into a drawing to win a free on-line intuitive painting course with Flora Bowley.  I had no idea who she was as an artist and I had no idea the journey I was about to embark on.

Initially, even though I was really excited that I had won something, my body and mind became riddled with fear and self-doubt.  I can count on one hand the times I had won something.  So my thoughts were, "seriously, I had won?  Karin are you sure?  Go back and check..."  Then came the thoughts, "Are you sure you can do this?  What happens if I'm not any good?"  But yes, I really had won and it was right before my 40th birthday.  My soul sister and loving friend, provided me with gentle encouragement and love to give me the boost I needed, all the while stating that I deserved it.  She reminded me that I am supported and loved by the universe and that this would be good for my soul and my art.  To assist my journey and celebrate my 40 years on this planet, Karin made sure I was set with the supplies I would need for the course, and sent me on my way to embark on this transformative journey.  So now it was up to me...  choose to bloom or choose to stay a seed.  Choose to shine or choose to hide my light.

This five week course started at the end of January and even though it ran for five weeks, I had access to it on line for six months from the time the course concluded.  Sweet!  This was perfect for me especially since my life was in upheaval at the time of winning this beautiful gem.  And to be honest, it took me a little while to wrap my head around the fact that I had won this, whether or not I was capable of doing it, and whether or not I deserved it.  Yes, I said it...  did I really deserve something so wonderful?  It took me a little while to answer these questions and when I did...  the magic happened.  I went on the site, read, re-read, and then started doing small things to get myself prepared to start and to push away my so called friends, fear and self-doubt.  All the while I was still dealing with a very sick and grieving mother, who was in and out of the hospital numerous times until the middle of March 2015.  In April, mom started to heal physically, emotionally, and spiritually which also assisted me with my own healing.  In mid May, I received an email stating everything would remain as it had been with my self-employment, so I was no longer sitting in limbo regarding my job status waiting for another bomb to drop.  I could breathe a little easier and worry a little less.  So it was time to start to show up for myself.  No excuses.

If you are like me and have never heard of Flora Bowley or her art, please for the love of God go check her out....  only after you finish reading this blog post of course!  Her art is amazing, her gentle and loving spirit so inviting, and her approach to art refreshing.  It was EXACTLY what I needed to transform and bloom.  Ironically, the 5 week course is called Bloom True.  Great, how appropriate.

I have struggled with the words, "I am an artist" for as long as I have been creating.  I was never really able to own the words and it definitely affected my creative life.  It wasn't until the conclusion of the online painting course, that I realized how much it affected my creative life.  Thankfully, despite the lack of owning these words, I still showed up and created.  My soul in many ways overpowered my ego, something I am grateful for.

Other than the gift of being a mother to my beautiful children, the painting class with Flora was by far the best gift I have ever been given.  There was a shift that occurred in my being while taking this online painting course that I find difficult to put into words.  The light and guidance that Flora emitted was hard to hide from and made me want to rise and shine.  My small seed opened accepting the light she radiated and the inner growth I experienced was magical and deep.  I allowed myself to grow, transform, and shine instead of staying small.  At times it was so hard to stand in front of my canvas and allow the magic to happen but I'm so glad that I did.  I'm glad that despite my fear I showed up for myself each day and allowed the light to enter, causing this great shift inside of my being.  When I let go of all the negative words that held my soul captive and really believed in myself as an artist, it was there that my voice emerged.  This voice was so beautiful and the art that has come as a result leaves me standing in awe.  Sometimes I stand in disbelief of what I have just created, asking myself, "Is this really mine?".  Yes, Toni, it is and it is beautiful.

I have had a few difficult years and last year was certainly one of them, but this painting class transformed my life and I will never be the same.  And neither will my art.  It provided a safe haven for me to grow and heal.  It helped my creative vision and assisted with finding the courage to show up each day for myself creatively.  I see the world through a different lens now, everything is a little different and the world a little brighter as a result.  Although the painting class was 5 weeks online, it took me the entire time I had access to it online, to get through the lessons.  The painting that I did during the course took  almost a year to finish.

The painting below I completed after the painting course ended and I was still working on my painting from the class itself.  I started this painting for an art show I was participating in and the night I finished it was magical.  I stood in front of the painting with tears in my eyes, a fire in my belly, love in my heart, and a disbelief that this was mine.  I created it.  ME.  And it was beautiful.  I had let go of the fear and self-doubt that had muffled my voice and instead chose to rise allowing my seed to be cracked open and my voice to emerge triumphantly.  My voice sang a creative music I longed to hear and I owned every bit of the sentence, "I AM AN ARTIST."

I chose to bloom and I'm so glad that I did.

 

***Stay tuned for my post about the class and the picture of my completed canvas....







All of the photos used in this blog post were taken by me in the Spring/Summer 2008

Dancing with Grief

I think a lot.  Is it possible to think too much?  I guess at times too much thinking could be detrimental.  These last several weeks have been a time of deep reflection for me.  I have been reflecting on my actions, behaviors, thoughts, patterns and where I am headed....  A LOT.  When I say a lot I mean A LOT.  So this morning I had a general idea for my writing topic, however, there was another plan in place bigger than myself.

Originally, I thought I would share a little bit about myself, elaborate on my reflection post from the other day, expose myself a little more, and some of the things I have been working on in the last few years.  So, with that in mind, I started my day "searching for myself".  Have you ever done this?  I don't mean thinking to yourself...  "who am I" although some of us could stand to ponder on that a little bit.  What I mean is, I typed my name into the google search engine to see what would come up.  I do this from time to time just to see what's out there.

You know, I'm pretty famous.  I'm not really but it was a nice thought for a brief moment.  Anyway, there is a musician named Toni Becker who is.  That's not me.  I was a musician at much younger age...  playing the lovely tenor saxophone.  I survived my teenage years because of music, so I'm forever grateful for the healing power music has.  Anyway, back to my search.  When I searched my name, my brother's on line legacy account came up, listing his online condolences.   And then it hit me...  that was my topic.  Grief.  My experience with grief has led me down a road of awakening, a life of conscious living, and it has cracked me open in a time of serious personal revelation.

Grief.  She and I have danced together many times over the years.  Throughout the years, we have developed an understanding for one another and our dance has become less awkward.  Don't misinterpret that, less awkward does not mean less difficult.  I wish I didn't know her as well as I do, but I do.

I feel as a human being, grief is the hardest part of the journey.  Letting go and saying goodbye to someone we love so dearly is hard.  It's not something you "just get over".  You can't move through it quickly because if you do, she'll teach you something else.  And through the most difficult and darkest of circumstances, she still reveals a light that teaches compassion, love, patience and understanding.  Grief is not only hard for the person dancing with her.  Those that we love and share a connection with us, also go through their own experience watching our awkward dance.  Their dance can feel like helplessness, hopelessness, and frustration with us, and with themselves for not being able to "fix it" or take away our pain.

I've had a long history with grief and we've danced together for quite some time now.  It wasn't until the last few years of my life that I started to fully understand her, and our bodies began to move in sync with each other. I have learned I can not lead this dance but must follow.  She leads the dance and I then move myself in the direction that is needed to heal.  For me, learning this was necessary to recover from the loss I feel so deeply in my heart and soul.

Grief and I have had our first awkward dance at the tender age of four, when I lost my dear grandma Verna.  God, I loved her.  She was so beautiful and I loved her sweet lap.  Even as I sit here thinking of her, with tears in my eyes, I can feel her lap as I nestle into her neck,  I remember her with deep love and adoration.  I didn't even know what grief was then, how could I at the age of four?  I came to understand what loss was and I knew it was very painful.

Then a year later, my parents divorced.  When I look back on my childhood, my experiences, my feelings and how they translate to my current patterns, I realize how deep this pain was.  I have come to realize that due to this heavy loss in my life, I developed many belief systems that I have had to ponder on and release.  I'm still working on this.  

I entered the dance floor again at the age of 15.  My step-sister, Karen, developed cancer at a very young age (21) and died shortly after.  God, I loved her too.  We had some common interests and every moment I spent with her, I always came home wanting more time.  So, when she left this earthly plane, my heart broke.  I can remember sitting in my room, crying, wondering how this had happened.  No one really talked about grief in our household or what to do to make the dance less awkward.  I didn't know about the stages of grief or what to do to cope, but my soul did.  Somewhere in my being, I found the light in the midst of the darkness and engaged in healthy coping mechanisms to get through the dance.  My parents purchased a fish tank for me, which was one of the most relaxing activities I engaged in during this time of heavy loss.  I ran.  I cried.  I listened to music.  I played music.  Thank God for my tenor saxophone.

I entered the dance floor again, a few short years later, when my dear Uncle Bob died.  He was my dad's closest sibling and his best friend.  I spent quite a bit of  time in his house and loved him dearly. When I look back at how I handled this loss, I remember just pushing through it, because unfortunately that's what I learned to do, instead of dancing slowly.  I think this loss was buried someplace within me, definitely not a very good way to cope with loss.

A couple years later, I entered the dance floor again.  This time it wasn't a family member but instead a close friend.  We were young.  He was young.  Too young.  He was days from turning 21.  This death hit hard.  I couldn't even dance.  I remember laying in bed for a week not wanting to do anything but listen to music and cry.  My heart was broken and I didn't know what to do.  Roger, was such a beautiful human being.  He had a smile that held you captive, a free spirit that loved everyone, and a lot of fun to be around.  At this time, I was in nursing school and had started learning about the stages of grief, healthy coping mechanisms, and what it means to say goodbye.  All those tools couldn't prepare me for the loss I felt or soothe my bleeding heart.

Grief called me to the dance floor again in 2002.  This wasn't a physical death, but instead a death of a relationship.  My husband at the time decided that he wanted to walk the journey of life alone, and to say I was devastated, would be an inadequate way to describe what I felt.  It was in that moment I came to understand grief doesn't call us to dance only at a time of physical death, but can call us to dance with any loss.  This experience really deepened my understanding of grief and started to help me see what all of us go through at a time of loss.  It's uncomfortable, awkward, soul wrenching, difficult and dark.  I learned that a lot of people in the world are numb and have a hard time with other people's pain.  I learned that any loss will cause grief.  I learned grief is a process that must be handled with care and allowed to happen in its own time, not forced, but instead handled with gentle understanding.  I did just that and vowed that what I learned I would hold on to and try to help others, so they didn't feel so alone.  Just as I was digging deep into my grief and processing my loss, my husband and I, came back together.

On 12/13/08, my life changed forever.  A night I will never forget.  A phone call at 1:07 am  on 12/14/08, bringing the news that caused a profound change within my soul.  "Jon is dead'" rings in my ears...  burning them actually.  If I could chose to NEVER hear those words, God I would.  The connection I had with my brother is something that I can never explain.  To know him was to love him and hate him.  He was beautiful, kind, charismatic, so intelligent, compassionate, strong, brave, lived with honor...  the list goes on and on.  He drove me crazy and I drove him crazy.  Under it all was a deep love.  A love that even death can't diminish.  If you want to read about my process and what I went through during that time, click on these links:   http://whimsicaljewels.blogspot.com/2008/12/angels-called-home.html  AND http://whimsicaljewels.blogspot.com/2008/12/o-troubled-soul.html

I think of my brother daily.  I loved him a great deal and when he died I couldn't imagine my life without him.  Even as I type those words, my eyes are welling up.  But time has passed and although I miss him, the pain that took my breath away so many years ago, no longer has the power to do that.  That doesn't mean I miss him any less, it just means I have moved through my grief.  So, after seeing Jon's on line legacy account I sat and read it.  Tears streaming down my face, remembering what a beautiful light the world lost, yet the heavens gained a bright shining star.  I'm so thankful for this little online treasure and reading how much my brother's life impacted so many.  (Thank you Tearé, I don't think I ever properly thanked you.  From the bottom of my heart, thank you for purchasing this.) Like I said...  to know him was to love him.  You'd get angry with him, utter hateful words as a result, but always go back to loving him because he was amazing.  For me, I couldn't imagine not having him by my side.  He was a soldier in the world and fought for those he loved with valor.  Did I tell you he was amazing?  :)

Jon taught me my greatest lessons.  When I said goodbye to him, I felt so lost.  I felt like I was missing parts of me that would never return.  Grief and I resisted our dance several times because it was too hard.  I couldn't dance.  I couldn't move.  My pain immobilized me.  Thankfully I was able to move forward and I invited her to dance.  I needed too.  I knew that I couldn't stand against the wall any longer and had to find someway to dance even if I didn't feel like it.  Through the most profound pain I have ever experienced, I found the light again.  I learned what it was like to lose someone you cared about so deeply and feel like there was no purpose in life.  I remember feeling that each day was a gift and so many people were squandering it away with meaningless shit.  They focused their attention on the most trivial things, all the while I wanted to scream...  "WAKE THE FUCK UP!"  I've lost the most important person in my life and here you are moving through life aimlessly bothering me with nonsense.  Jon was the greatest teacher and he continues to teach me.  This loss opened my sleeping eyes and helped me realize that love remains the same even after death, be thankful for each day, see people without judgement, love openly, be true to yourself, give your love freely despite how uncomfortable it feels, be kind, live with meaning, engage in deep discussions, choose your friends wisely, really this list goes on and on too.

My dance with grief, after losing Jon, was so awkward.  I couldn't stand, let alone follow her lead.  I learned with time that the sun continues to shine and the pain lessens.  I'll never stop missing him on this physical plane, but I realize he's still here.  I just have to be "awake" to see and feel him.  Awake and aware.  I'm thankful for his love and his visits.

Fast forward to 8/9/12.  Another HUGE loss.  Grief invited me to dance once again.  I didn't want to and I screamed at her to leave me the fuck alone.  My husband decided, again, that he wanted to continue on his journey ALONE.  Again, seriously?  How the hell could this be happening...  AGAIN?!?!?  I was so devastated.  I longed for my brother during this time.  He always knew what to say when I needed it the most.  This life situation was another great teacher of grief and just like losing my brother it has taken a lot of time to heal from this heavy loss.  Losing my marriage made me pause and examine my beliefs regarding love, relationships, family, communication, self-love, self-esteem and self-worth.  I have held myself under a microscope and examined every nook and cranny, trying to uncover beliefs that no longer serve me, discover myself again, and heal from this loss that shook my being.  I felt a veil of darkness, but forced myself to see the light.  I'd say life wants us to move quickly and "get through it" but that's not true.  Honestly, it's the people in life that want us to do that.  I've realized, once again, that people can't handle other people's pain.  It creates an uncomfortable stirring within themselves that leaves feelings like despair, hopelessness, helplessness, shame, guilt, anxiety, fear, sadness, anger and vulnerability.  I've sat on the other side of grief too, watching those I love flail about, writhing in discomfort and pain.  It's hard.  I've wanted to help but knew I couldn't...  it was their journey and process, something they had to go through and sit with.  My job was to provide love and non-judgement.  That's been hard too.  We humans are so quick to judge another person's journey.  I try not to and really work on it, and even though I work to not cast judgement, I still occasionally do.  Losing my family as I knew it, has been a really hard journey.  One that I am still navigating through but I'm dancing.  Letting go and learning to live differently has been a period of discovery, and trial and error.  Sometimes I've failed miserably but not without learning something.

Last October I went through another loss.  It was through the loss of Jon and my marriage, that I was able to navigate through my grief with a little more ease.  I was able to recognize the dance steps and although she was still in the lead, following the dance wasn't quite as hard.  Losing my step-father, Glenn, was unbelievably hard.  I had come to love him so much and his presence in my life.   I can remember sitting in the park with a deep sadness, a sadness I couldn't seem to shake.  I looked at my ex-husband and said aloud...  "I'm depressed.  I'm so unbelievably sad that Glenn isn't here."  Saying those words, acknowledging the stage of grief I was in, was so liberating.  That simple act broke me free and my healing process started.

Beyond my own grief, watching my mother go through another deep loss in her life, was much harder.  This last year, she has shown an amazing amount of strength.  Losing Jon, was the hardest thing she has ever been through and practically broke her.  Losing Glenn, is easily the second hardest thing she has been through, and as I've watched her this past year, I stand amazed at her strength and growth.

Grief, I hate and love the word simultaneously.  Weird, right?  I hate it because of the loss we go through and the grief we feel as a result.  I love it because sometimes what we are grieving was necessary in order to become more than we were prior to the grief.  I've learned that grief is an individual process.  It's important to be kind to yourself as you navigate through it and dance slowly but not too slowly because it's easy to get stuck in one place.  You know that heavy feeling in your feet when you're immobilized?  In order for healing to occur we need to continue to dance, but if by chance we get stuck, it's possible to get unstuck.  There's light in the midst of darkness.  Remember time heals all wounds.  I hate using a cliché but there are reasons they exist.  I promise you, time will go by and the pain will lessen.  The first year is the hardest.  Experiencing all the firsts without the person you love so dearly...  no words can describe what that's like.  Be patient with yourself.  Love yourself by not judging your process.  Find healthy coping mechanisms that will help you through the grief.  I have several that have helped me over the years...  Being outside in nature, music, art, writing, screaming at the universe, talking with supportive friends, biking, running, crying, crying, crying, did I say crying?  I have found that a physical release, is just as important if not more important to my process, as listening to music or any of the others on the list.  The endorphins that your body releases when doing something active is a natural way to make yourself feel better.  Love yourself.  Take the time you need to heal.

After I finished this post I thought it was pretty humorous that I chose to use the analogy of "dancing with grief."  I am introverted and shy, and although I love dancing, I hate doing it because I don't like the attention it brings.  Being the center of attention is so dreadful for me....  eyes on me, no thank you.  This made me laugh and realize I need to dance more, not with grief, but in a crowded room with the sweet sound of music as it fills the room.

Self Love

Why is it so easy to love those around us while neglecting ourselves?  Why is it we dismiss our own needs so easily to take care of the needs of others?  Why is it we see people as selfish when they are caring for themselves?  Why is it we continually tell ourselves we don't have enough time to do the activity we enjoy doing and would assist in alleviating our stress?  Why is it we show compassion and understanding to another person, and are relentless with ourselves?  Why is forgiveness so hard and why do we avoid it like it's the black plague?

Currently these questions are at the forefront of my mind because self love is an area I continue to struggle with.  Self-love has been one of the most difficult concepts to understand, consistently maintain, and put into practice.  As I move to greater understanding, I also realize how hard we are on ourselves and so unforgiving.  I'm guilty.  Guilty of continually beating myself up for not doing better and not forgiving myself for my "short comings".  Thankfully, I have gotten better about this but I have a long way to go.

Today, I awoke and made a pledge to myself to write about self-love...  to confess and share how I have neglected myself and have gotten caught in the obligation cycle.  You know what I'm talking about...  A to do list in our personal and professional lives that is a mile long and continually keeps us busy, then there's the kid's schedules and needs, the needs of an aging and sick parent, and all of the daily responsibilities in the home.  Do you succumb to the daily challenges of obligation and neglect yourself in the process?  I do.  The forgiving side of me reminds the critical side, that I have gotten better about this.  A few years ago, I would have been physically ill from the stress and increase in obligations I have endured in the last several months.   Thankfully, I have gotten better about meeting my needs and listening to my body, and try to not to get to the point of physical illness.  I try to remind myself my energy cup needs to be filled but I don't do it enough.  Recognizing the problem is the first step in correcting the problem.

Art heals my soul.  It's a beautiful release to the emotional eruption taking place from the world around me.  It also helps me work through and process the world around me.  But honestly, art isn't my only outlet.  This morning, my thoughts were why have I neglected myself so terribly?  Why have I allowed my obligations to get in the way with that which brings me joy?  While sitting here, I have realized I was still engaging in joyful activities in my life it just wasn't the activity I wanted to do the most and in return I wasn't staying in the moment of relief and getting the most out of my joyful activity.  I miss my old friend Art but I love walks in nature, listening to music, watching a funny show, and being with my children.  I think yesterday riding my bike with "S" allowed me to break some of my inner self free and led me here in my journey.  I may not have been hanging with Art but I have spent several days in nature, listened to the birds, laughed with my children and rode my bike...  all joyful activities.

So...  what have I learned and processed from this?  I need to say NO more frequently and then not feel guilty because I did.  When I feel the tinge of guilt, feel it, then release it, practicing forgiveness.  Forgive myself when I don't say no.  Exercise compassion with myself.  Take a few moments each day to soak in my joyful activity and really be in the moment, whether it's walking in nature, standing outside listening to the birds sing, listening to music and singing along, riding my bike, laughing at a funny show or my goofy kids, writing, or engaging in art.  Participating in activities that provide joy to our soul is just as important as putting food in our bodies.

Loving yourself is just as essential as loving someone else.  You really can't give love to another without fully doing it to yourself.  I hope that today you practice a little self love and engage in an activity that makes a smile creep across your face, your belly move from laughter and your cup overflow with joy.  I did.