<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427</id><updated>2012-01-03T21:54:16.581-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Flying All The Way Home</title><subtitle type='html'>The adventures of one little bird as she spreads her wings and finds her way in the world.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-326004443243108689</id><published>2011-04-24T21:35:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T23:24:50.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gift of Death......Sometimes Rebirth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LzBKfMHz8V4/TbTMvlZ38BI/AAAAAAAAARI/NVC--mtrovg/s1600/Family+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LzBKfMHz8V4/TbTMvlZ38BI/AAAAAAAAARI/NVC--mtrovg/s320/Family+002.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Today is my sister Nancy's birthday.&amp;nbsp; She passed away many years ago, at the tender age of 17.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I was 12, at the time.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She had decided that she no longer wanted to be here, and she chose to end her life.&amp;nbsp; As you can imagine, it was a horribly traumatic experience, and one that forever altered&amp;nbsp;my family and my&amp;nbsp;life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It took me a long time to come to terms with what she had done.&amp;nbsp; I was angry for a long time.&amp;nbsp; It wasn't until I had some maturity, and some spiritual awareness, that I could actually grieve for her,&amp;nbsp;begin to forgive her, and then begin to see the gifts, that she offered me&amp;nbsp;through this journey of pain.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They have been many.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here is the gift of wisdom she offered me today.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Live in the here and now...you can not bring the past into today.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You see, I have this little thing I&amp;nbsp;like to&amp;nbsp;do.&amp;nbsp; I always figure out how old she would be.&amp;nbsp; Today she would be 57.&amp;nbsp; And then, as I was thinking about that, and visualizing her, in my head, I realized that I could not see her as a 57 year old woman...and then it dawned on me.&amp;nbsp; She cannot and will not ever be 57.&amp;nbsp; She will always be 17.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I cannot bring her into the present, and make her 57.&amp;nbsp; She lives in my past.&amp;nbsp; That is where she will always be.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And from that, I realized how much I do this.&amp;nbsp; I spend time daydreaming in this "what could have been" kind of fantasy world.&amp;nbsp; I do it in other areas of my life too.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;see that it's been my way to cope with situations, that have been so very&amp;nbsp;painful to come to terms with.&amp;nbsp; And it's been a helpful and necessary way to cope.&amp;nbsp; It got me through a lot of tough times.&amp;nbsp; The trouble is, it keeps&amp;nbsp;me stuck in the past, and from being able to live in the here and now.&amp;nbsp; To live in today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This feels very powerful and important.&amp;nbsp; It feels like a big part of my getting more unstuck, and being able to move on and move forward.&amp;nbsp; I will be excited to observe my thoughts and feelings, over the next while, as this new awareness sinks in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&amp;nbsp;feels very fitting,&amp;nbsp;that her birthday happened to be on Easter Sunday.&amp;nbsp; I have often felt, that&amp;nbsp;her death,&amp;nbsp;was the impetus to push me to find my life.&amp;nbsp; And today, on this universal day of resurrection and rebirth, she has once again offered me insights, into my own life, so that I may live full and free.&amp;nbsp; She may not have walked this earth walk with me, into adulthood, but she continues to walk with me in spirit, and she will always&amp;nbsp;walk in the walls&amp;nbsp;of my heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank You Nancy!&amp;nbsp; Happy Birthday!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I Love You!&lt;br /&gt;
Blessings to you ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-326004443243108689?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/326004443243108689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2011/04/miracle-of-rebirth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/326004443243108689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/326004443243108689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2011/04/miracle-of-rebirth.html' title='The Gift of Death......Sometimes Rebirth'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LzBKfMHz8V4/TbTMvlZ38BI/AAAAAAAAARI/NVC--mtrovg/s72-c/Family+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-6926582568499096681</id><published>2010-11-13T10:42:00.016-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T20:48:32.645-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fly Little Grey Dove Fly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TN7OxV3xVpI/AAAAAAAAAPk/jEDz_SLsTKo/s1600/Pigeons%2B003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 158px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539091938792265362" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TN7OxV3xVpI/AAAAAAAAAPk/jEDz_SLsTKo/s200/Pigeons%2B003.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;div&gt;


&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TN7OZOJegBI/AAAAAAAAAPc/R0gJU9vYKa0/s1600/Pigeons.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TN7Na3MxjDI/AAAAAAAAAPU/yMYKDhVssfk/s1600/Pigeons%2B003.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;The happy couple, during the courtship phase, before the eggs were laid. Aaaahhhh...the freedom!
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I had some very special houseguests this summer. Technically they were balcony guests. A most beautiful pair of pigeons, decided that my balcony was the perfect place to raise their family. I love all birds, but pigeons hold a very dear place in my heart. I was truly honored that they choose my home, to be their home, for a little while. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You see, this wasn't the first time that pigeons had come into my life. Pigeons have been showing up, with powerful messages, for me, for a long, long time. I just didn't always understand. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The first time a pigeon came to me, I was only 8 years old. This pigeon was very near death, and in fact, did die, while I held it in my hands. I don't remember what the 8 year old me was feeling, at the time, but I do remember that there were unbearable things going on in my life.  Things that I couldn't understand, and had no way to deal with, at that time.  In hindsight, and with enlightened awareness, I now know that pigeon came to give me this message; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Go to sleep, little one, go to sleep for a while. It's not safe now."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And so, part of me went to sleep. And I got through those years and that time of my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My next pigeon encounter would not happen for 30 years. I was staying at the Victoria Inn, which is what I call the Psych Ward at The Victoria Hospital. Great place for a little R&amp;amp;R! Seriously though, all that nasty stuff that I couldn't look at back when I was a child….well, it now wanted (and needed) to come out. You can well imagine, I was scared, overwhelmed, and so uncertain of what to do. One evening, I was doing a jigsaw puzzle, and thinking about how I would piece my life back together, when all of a sudden, I heard this loud noise against the window. I pulled the blind open, and there again, was a pigeon…. flapping its wings furiously, working very hard to get my attention. We sat watching each other for a long while that evening, and this time I heard the message, loud and clear. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Wake up little one, wake up. It's safe now. It's time." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;That was 13 years ago, and I've worked hard at waking up and remembering what I needed to remember, and feeling what I needed to feel, so that I could process it and let it go. It's hard work…there's no denying that. But it's worth it. So worth it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, you can imagine, when the pigeons showed up on my balcony late this summer, I was very excited, and very curious…and just a wee bit nervous. What kind of messages will they bring this time? I paid close attention, 'cause I didn't wanna miss a thing… and here is some of what they taught me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The first message was....Don't assume that just because you haven't seen the male after the fun courtship and mating phase has ended, that he has disappeared. After some research, I discovered that the male pigeon actually sits on the eggs, in the daytime, (which is why I was no longer seeing him) and he also makes milk, to feed the young, just like the female. Total equal opportunity household! That's so cool. I didn't know that he was on the nest, in the daytime, because I couldn't actually see the nest. You see, it was behind a door, that was leaned up against the wall, at one end of my balcony, and I was actually afraid if I popped my head around the door to investigate, that a protective pigeon parent would fly into my face. Not good! So, I had to keep my nose out of their business. And that actually became part of the lesson. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Not everything is my business, and I don't have to be in charge of everything, for it to go smoothly.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;REALLY! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, because I couldn't see the nest, and really had no idea what was going on back there, I had no choice but to trust that nature was taking its course, and that everything was happening just as it should. What I could do was educate myself about pigeons…which I did…and pay attention…which I did. I actually didn't even know if there were eggs back there. I just had to be patient, and wait. Not easy for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;After what seemed like forever, one day I found a broken pigeon egg shell on my balcony. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I cried happy joyful tears. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But…I still couldn't see them, and I couldn't be certain that they had hatched….or if maybe a crow had had some lunch. Again, I waited and trusted. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It took another 2 weeks…and then one day, I heard the unmistakable squeaking of baby pigeons, at feeding time, and I finally knew there were real baby pigeons there…for sure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I cried more happy joyful tears. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But, now the nights were getting pretty cool, and I worried it may be too cold for them to survive. Again, I waited… and I trusted… and I waited… and I trusted. And then, one glorious day, I finally saw them peek out from behind the door. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So many happy joyful tears. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Very soon after that, they jumped out of the nest, and they we were, standing face to face looking at each other…. checking each other out. How lovely to finally meet them, after all this time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;More happy joyful tears. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And then, in the days after that first meeting, I noticed that I never saw the parents anymore, and I was concerned that they had abandoned them. I contacted a wildlife rehabilitator, and she came to check them out. She assured me they were healthy and that the parents were staying away from the nest (but still close by), to encourage the young pigeons to start flying. I knew they could fly, because they took their first little flight, when she tried to pick them up. My job, she told me, was to not feed them, and to dismantle their nest, and to make my balcony an inhospitable place for them to be, so that they will leave and become independent. Apparently, young pigeons will become complacent if you make it too comfy cozy for them…the same as adult children…if you let them. This was tough to do, but I was learning to trust, and I figured that pigeons instinctively know what to do. After all, they've been doing it for a long time, without my help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Over the next few days, I cleaned up lots of pigeon poop, and took away all signs of their nest. They watched me very curiously. We had lots of little chats over those few days. Often, they would stand right up close to the edge of my 11&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; floor balcony, and look over, and I swear, I could feel their fear and trepidation… and I would assure them that it was all gonna be okay…. that if they just did it…if they just started flapping their wings a little, they would start flying. I told them that I knew they could do it. I told them how much I believed in them. I assured them there were so many grand adventures out there to take part in, and that there was a whole world just waiting for them to explore. During this time there was much wing flapping going on, on my part, and many choruses of "Fly little white dove fly" being sung. I'm sure it would have made for a great reality show called &lt;em&gt;"Adventures of a Crazy Bird Lady". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Anyway, you know how the story ends…one day, they just flew away, and I haven't seen them since. &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lots of sad (yet happy and joyful) tears.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I trust that they are out there having grand adventures, and living their amazing pigeon lives. I'm happy to have shared my space with them, for a short while, and I feel like I helped them to have a good solid start in life. A start I wish I'd had. And I miss them….but really, I'm the lucky one. They brought me such joy and taught me so much about letting go and trusting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;~ Trusting that even when I can't see the whole picture, I can still believe that amazing wondrous things are happening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;~ Trusting that even when it feels scary looking over that edge, that it's all gonna be okay….I only have to take one step at a time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;~ Trusting that my wings will carry me wherever I need to go….to all sorts of grand adventures that are just waiting for me, out in the world. All I have to do is flap them a little. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And that was the message from my faithful pigeon friends this time;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Trust little one. Trust. You've worked hard. It's time. Spread your wings and fly."
&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TN7DBlqAA-I/AAAAAAAAAPM/zqs5Ig10yXM/s1600/Pigeons.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TN7Pmc6JXjI/AAAAAAAAAPs/zcPg4yKTu0s/s1600/Pigeons.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 154px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539092851214343730" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TN7Pmc6JXjI/AAAAAAAAAPs/zcPg4yKTu0s/s200/Pigeons.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;/span&gt;



&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;The babies, in the days before they flew away.


&lt;/span&gt;

&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;
&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-6926582568499096681?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/6926582568499096681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-had-some-very-special-houseguests.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/6926582568499096681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/6926582568499096681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-had-some-very-special-houseguests.html' title='Fly Little Grey Dove Fly'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TN7OxV3xVpI/AAAAAAAAAPk/jEDz_SLsTKo/s72-c/Pigeons%2B003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-2201835697773660651</id><published>2010-07-31T11:18:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T12:09:20.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting Out The Monster ~ Part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TFRPwx816SI/AAAAAAAAAN8/ZOI9jZlcHyM/s1600/Picture001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 255px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500108744387062050" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TFRPwx816SI/AAAAAAAAAN8/ZOI9jZlcHyM/s320/Picture001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; OMG!! I have the most wonderful news to share with you today. I shared here last night about how much trouble I've been having sleeping (it's all in my last post; Letting out the Monster ~ Part I). 

Well, after finishing that entry, and closing things down for the night, I was absolutely exhausted.  My inner little girl and I thought about it, and decided that we would try sleeping in the bedroom, with the option to move to the couch, if we had to. 

No need!! 

I slept like a rock for 8 straight hours...in my bed!!  No fear..no flashbacks..not even a bathroom break!!  Woohoo!!  I can't remember the last time I did that.  What a glorious feeling to wake up in the morning feeling refreshed.  If I feel this great from one night of restful sleep, can you imagine how amazing I'm gonna feel, when I'm doing that every night. 

So, what was different?  I listened to her...my scared little girl.  I really listened to her.  And I gave her space to let those feelings out...the dark scary feelings.  I let her scream onto the paper, in whatever way she wanted.  I didn't censor her.  I didn't tell her she had to do things a certain way to please me.  I just let her be...and when she had had enough of my time and attention...when she knew that I was really listening, and not pushing her away, she could finally rest.  And that's just what we did.  We slept the most peaceful of sleeps...like babies.  So beautiful. 

Today, her and I are going to the craft store, to buy more big paper, and crayons.  She is so happy...and I am so grateful. 

Blessings,
Robbin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-2201835697773660651?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/2201835697773660651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/07/letting-out-monster-part-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/2201835697773660651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/2201835697773660651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/07/letting-out-monster-part-ii.html' title='Letting Out The Monster ~ Part II'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TFRPwx816SI/AAAAAAAAAN8/ZOI9jZlcHyM/s72-c/Picture001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-4137472050199012179</id><published>2010-07-31T01:05:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T12:53:18.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting Out The Monster ~ Part I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TFO989zzqeI/AAAAAAAAANs/_665bX7LpO0/s1600/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499948425031166434" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TFO989zzqeI/AAAAAAAAANs/_665bX7LpO0/s320/Picture+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I haven't been sleeping well lately. My nights have been tormented with flashbacks of unsafe nights, and memories of deeds that should never happen to a little girl. I go through these periods from time to time. I wish they got easier, but they don't seem to.
&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight I decided that I would start sleeping on the couch instead, since the bedroom was the place where a lot of icky stuff happened. So, I made my bed, on the couch, got my book, my booklight, my water, my lip balm, and I was set. Everything was cool. This would be good. And then I turned off the lights, and that familiar anxious feeling crept over me. That feeling that I wasn't safe. I read for quite a while, to try and relax myself, but every little noise made me jump, and increased my anxiety and fear. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I know there really is nothing to be afraid of tonight. This is not the fear of a grown woman...this is the fear of a small child. A child who doesn't understand that it's now safe. I'm trying to show her that it is. That was why we were sleeping on the couch. I'm trying to work with her. but it didn't seem to be working. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I remembered the conversation I had, with my friend, Andrea earlier this evening. She was telling me about letting out the monsters, and of course, Andrea's way is always to draw it. But drawing scares me. I'm not an artist, by any means, and expressing my creativity is a very scary feat for me. But that's what I did. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I started with some smaller paper, and let my little girl do whatever she wanted, without my censorship. She made some pretty dark scribbly pictures, and it felt pretty good to be scribbling. I found some bigger paper, and she went to town, drawing me a picture of how she feels. What I get from this picture is that she is the bright shiny center, and that she feels lots of nasty darkness around her, trying to overtake her. There is also some lovely healing blue and green, coming in through that darkness, that is also finding it's way to her. Thank Goodness! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, it is a very simple basic picture, and that's okay. It's a start, and it's been a long time coming. I've decided to get her some more big paper, and let her go to town. I've been letting her speak her voice more...now it's time to let her draw it out of her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized something tonight. Moving to the couch, may have just been running away. Maybe I need to stop running, and let that monster out...give it some air, so it could dissipate. And it seems to have, for now...and I'm tired. Not sure if it's gonna be the couch or the bed...we'll make that decision together...her and I.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blessings,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Robbin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-4137472050199012179?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/4137472050199012179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/07/letting-out-monster.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/4137472050199012179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/4137472050199012179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/07/letting-out-monster.html' title='Letting Out The Monster ~ Part I'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/TFO989zzqeI/AAAAAAAAANs/_665bX7LpO0/s72-c/Picture+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-8667129583852866094</id><published>2010-05-22T22:24:00.018-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T14:07:54.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Laying Down My Sword</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S_yJkcFkPmI/AAAAAAAAANM/zVx0qnVA6ho/s1600/Swordswoman.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 202px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475402506083516002" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S_yJkcFkPmI/AAAAAAAAANM/zVx0qnVA6ho/s320/Swordswoman.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This sword and I have been through so much together. It's been my protector, my solace, my defender. It's sliced through so much garbage, to reveal the truth hidden beneath all the lies. It's taken me from a scared little girl, to a strong fearless warrior. It's given me back my life. It's given me back ME. It has served it's purpose well. I will forever be grateful.
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now, I want to lay my sword down. I want to let it go. I want to end this war. The last war that I'm still fighting. The war with my Dad. It's been long and it's painful, and it's time to bring it to an end. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And yet, as I say that, I really do not know how to do that, or what that looks like. I have tried many times, to put my sword down, with my Dad, and I always pick it back up. Maybe, I wasn't ready yet. Am I now? I'm certainly willing. The difference this time, may be that I am acknowledging that I don't know how to do this, and I'm asking the Universe to help me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the past, I do know I've given away my power to him, when I would continue to expect him to acknowledge my pain. He cannot do that. He will not do that. He's proved that many times. Today, I acknowledge my pain, and that is enough for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the past, I also kept trying to get him to acknowledge the truth. The truth that I remembered. The truth that he had chosen to forget. It took me a long time to understand why I needed his acknowledgment. I didn't trust myself. I had lived so far away from myself, for so long, that I had no way to know how to trust myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that has changed. I'm not that naive, timid, passive girl anymore. I've worked hard, and I'm a strong, assertive woman now. I live in my body. I live in my truth. I no longer need his words, to know what is true for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And maybe that is why I'm now ready, to lay my sword down. I no longer need anything from him. I have given myself what I needed. I have been my own best parent. And that may mean that I no longer have any need to have a relationship with him, or it may mean that I am able to have some kind of relationship with him. I honestly don't know at this moment. What I do know is that I want to cultivate peace in my heart, where there has been so much anger. I want to bask in this feeling, and let it radiate out from me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blessings,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Robbin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;

&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;




&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;


&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S_igS0mutpI/AAAAAAAAAMc/G-ST9xMMaBg/s1600/temple_of_love_by_Geistig-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;








&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-8667129583852866094?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/8667129583852866094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/05/laying-down-my-sword.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/8667129583852866094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/8667129583852866094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/05/laying-down-my-sword.html' title='Laying Down My Sword'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S_yJkcFkPmI/AAAAAAAAANM/zVx0qnVA6ho/s72-c/Swordswoman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-483421689268318054</id><published>2010-05-13T22:12:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T15:15:31.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Emerging from the Cocoon...Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S-2iPhjuCeI/AAAAAAAAAMU/leY7khuFgxM/s1600/Butterflycocoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 293px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 185px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471207509914946018" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S-2iPhjuCeI/AAAAAAAAAMU/leY7khuFgxM/s400/Butterflycocoon.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I haven't written here for 3 months, and as I start to write, I kinda feel how a catholic must feel going into confession, after a long absence. Forgive me Creative Spirit, for I have abandoned you, once again. I've wanted to write...oh, how I've wanted to, but somehow I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I have cocooned myself, closed myself away. I know I've been doing important inner work, and now it's time to join the world again.

And so, I must go back in time, to February 26, 2010. That was the day of the gallery exhibit opening for the "Just As I Am" project. &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.justasiam.ca"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That was the day that I let the world see me, just as I am. And what a glorious day it was! I felt like I was walking on air, and yet, at the same time, I felt more grounded than I ever have, in my lifetime. I had come home to myself. I was standing there, tall and proud, in my own skin, for all to see. What an amazing feeling. And that feeling carried on for days and days. It was like a really long celebration inside myself. I broke through so many barriers, in that time. I felt like I was being absolutely true to myself, and absolutely accepting of myself, and I noticed a wonderful new comfort with my physical being. I was more accepting of my body, and seemed to be living in it more. It was like nothing I had ever known. It was like heaven.

And then, I slowly started to feel myself shutting down again...closing myself away. This has been my pattern forever...take a step forward, take a step back. And the bigger the step forward, the bigger the step back. And this was one giant leap forward, so why was I surprised? I know that the step back is really just a time to help myself incorporate what has transpired, and let go of something that I won't be needing on this next leg of the journey. And yet, these times always throw me off. I suppose the "happy girl" in me wants life to always be fun and carefree, but I know that carefree happens, by attending to what is right in front of me, wanting my attention.

So, I followed my higher self, into that cocoon. I let myself really feel the feelings that were coming up. I allowed myself to go to places, in my heart and soul, that were scary and sad. I grieved, yet again, for that little girl, who didn't feel safe or accepted. I had no contact with my Dad, again, during this time. My little girl self needed to feel absolutely safe, so that I could allow these old feelings to come up. And, I see now, that she needed to know that she could trust the adult me, to keep her safe. Totally safe. She needed to know that when the chips are down, that I won't abandon her, like I've done so many times before. That I won't push her aside, and become the people pleaser, that I've often been, just so that people would like me, and think nice things about me. And there have been some very trying moments, during the last while, to help me learn this important lesson. Thank you, Universe, for putting the people and situations, in my path, that I needed, to help me work through this. I feel like I've come through it so much stronger, and I know that I've done great work towards building trust between me and my little girl. That is worth everything to me.

This week, I've felt myself coming out of the cocoon. I know that a huge shift has taken place inside of me, and I'm excited to see what new adventures it brings with it. I'm excited to be more of the person, that I want to be...more of the person, that my little girl self, deserves from me. E.E. Cummings says, "It takes a lot of courage to grow up and become who you really are." I agree, and I would add, that it's worth it...well worth it. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blessings,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Robbin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-483421689268318054?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/483421689268318054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-havent-written-here-for-3-months-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/483421689268318054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/483421689268318054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-havent-written-here-for-3-months-and.html' title='Emerging from the Cocoon...Again'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S-2iPhjuCeI/AAAAAAAAAMU/leY7khuFgxM/s72-c/Butterflycocoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-3158787393941119422</id><published>2010-02-12T13:25:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T14:27:13.268-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty of the Body...Courage of the Spirit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S3WrgKptpTI/AAAAAAAAAI8/CR4cFRvlceo/s1600-h/WOMAN.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 138px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S3WrgKptpTI/AAAAAAAAAI8/CR4cFRvlceo/s200/WOMAN.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437440694223217970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
This week, I attended the private reception for all the participants, who had taken part in the "Just As I Am" project.  A nude art project, showcasing the beauty of the human body, in all it's various forms.  I was feeling pretty darn nervous, I must say.  This project has been so huge for me.  Life-changing and life-affirming.  So, I wasn't about to let a little case of nerves, keep me away. Instead, I honored my feelings.  All those feelings, that I've carried around for so long, that convinced me that I was ugly, and not worth looking at.  Not worth treating with love and respect.  By others, and by myself.  It's been quite a journey, to get to the place, where I could even entertain the idea, that I may be telling myself a lie.  That all the ugly stuff, that I believed, for so long, was just a misperception.  A lie that I had formulated, to try and make sense of what had happened to me...and a protection, so that I wouldn't be further hurt.  I somehow, thought, that if I made myself ugly, that I could protect myself, from the perpetrators of the world.  That if I padded myself with a lot of protection, that I would be safe.  What I didn't realize, is that the beauty of the human spirit, shines through, no matter what.  We can't hide our perfection.  We can try allright...and we certainly do.  But, it always shines anyway.  It always finds a way to burst through.  It's up to us to see it, and to allow it to be.  I have spent a lot of time, working on keeping myself, all wrapped up, in this lie of ugliness; this misperception of my truth.  I could be angry and resentful for that.  But why?  I did what I needed to do, at the time...or what I thought I needed to do.  Regardless, it was what kept me safe, until I could start to see the truth.  It was my protection, and I'm gently letting go of that safety net, now.  I am starting to embrace the beauty in my spirit...and in my body.  The beauty that has been waiting all this time, for me to acknowledge it.  I see it now.
Blessings,
Robbin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-3158787393941119422?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/3158787393941119422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/02/beauty-and-courage-of-human-body-and.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/3158787393941119422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/3158787393941119422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/02/beauty-and-courage-of-human-body-and.html' title='Beauty of the Body...Courage of the Spirit'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S3WrgKptpTI/AAAAAAAAAI8/CR4cFRvlceo/s72-c/WOMAN.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-5346535115945908347</id><published>2010-01-20T20:20:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T22:26:02.621-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Right to Safety</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S1fWnaC7NGI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Ng1nW_Jqv7g/s1600-h/feelingsafedoreenvirtue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S1fWnaC7NGI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Ng1nW_Jqv7g/s200/feelingsafedoreenvirtue.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429043848313255010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I heard about a survey today, that asked men and women about their greatest fear, when going on a blind date.  I couldn't believe the answers.  Women said they were most afraid of being raped, or even killed.  And guess what men were most afraid of?  Whether their date would find them attractive, or not.  Can you believe that?  Why is this possible?  Why is this a reality? 

I don't know how accurate this survey was, or who it was done by, or any of that.  But what I do know, is how it made me feel.  Angry....very, very angry.  I can't speak for men, because I'm not one, so I don't know how they feel; although, I'd be interested to know.  And I can't even speak for other women.  But, I can speak for myself, and right now, I need to do that. I need to let this anger have some airtime.

I understand fearing for your safety. I understand it all too well.  And I know what it's like to feel unsafe with men.  I grew up with an unsafe father, and have known many more unsafe men, in my life.  Too many.  So maybe, my experience is not the norm.  Maybe, my judgement is somewhat clouded.  But, what if it's not.  What if we are a society of women, who really are walking around, afraid of being brutalized by men.  The very people, who are supposed to be our protectors, could, in a moment's notice, be our perpetrators.  This is reality, and has been, for a long, long time.  

I could ask 'Why'... but I know there will be no explanation, that would appease my rage.  So, instead, I ask...How do we change this?  How do we create a society, where women, children, and men, feel safe enough, to let their guard down.  And, is that even possible?  Perhaps, it's just a fantasy, in my head.  Perhaps, it's just the dream of one little girl, whose tired of working really hard to find safety, in a world that's often felt unsafe.  

And, maybe, little by little, the world is changing.  I know that, today, I do have a few male friends, who I feel very safe with, and I do sense a shift, happening with men.  I notice them getting softer, and more open to their feelings.  I see them opening up, to a new way of living.  It's a good thing, and it gives me real hope for the future.

So, I think my dream may just be possible, after all. 

Feeling more hopeful,
Robbin

P.S. It was not my intent to inflict anger towards all the good men out there.  This is not about you.  Please know that I am eternally grateful for all the men, who are stepping up, and being positive, loving role models.  You are such blessings.  Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-5346535115945908347?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/5346535115945908347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/01/right-to-safety.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/5346535115945908347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/5346535115945908347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/01/right-to-safety.html' title='The Right to Safety'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S1fWnaC7NGI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Ng1nW_Jqv7g/s72-c/feelingsafedoreenvirtue.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-8982747998569151838</id><published>2010-01-04T17:31:00.017-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T19:10:02.965-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Path of Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0aF3hdLSsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Z_V6y2KTIzE/s1600-h/forest+path.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0aF3hdLSsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Z_V6y2KTIzE/s200/forest+path.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424169990134385346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Happy 2010 Everyone!!  
A new year...
a new decade...
and so many new possibilities!!


I'm doing something totally different this year.  I'm &lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;allowing &lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; myself to dream.....to dream big.  I say, allowing, because dreaming was something, that I've had trouble letting myself do, in the past.  I really didn't believe that they would actually come true, so what was the point.  Better, to save myself the pain, and just not have any.  And then, 2009 happened, and I found myself doing things, that I could have never imagined (see previous post, if you would like to see a short list of these things).  At first, I thought these were just random events, and I was just taking the opportunities, that were being placed, in my path.  Yes, I was taking the opportunities...but, were they just being placed randomly, or were they actually the culmination of my persistence and determination, to have a better life.  In the past, I've tended to believe, that I was at the mercy, of the Universe, and just had to deal with whatever it put in my path.  But, what if the Universe has always been answering my dreams, even when I couldn't dare to let myself articulate them?  

So, this year, I'm gonna actually start telling the Universe what I want, and who knows what will happen   And so, I'm really excited, to be involved in my friend, Andrea's, Creative Dreamer project.  Check out the link.  It's going to be very exciting.  I can just feel it.  So, without further ado, here is my list of dreams....big and small, and everywhere, in between.  Some are already happening, some, I know will happen this year, and others, may take a little longer...but it's all good, 'cause I know that life is full of possibilities, just waiting to happen...

1~ write and publish a book about my life..it's been quite a ride, and I have discovered that I touch people, when I share my story!
2~ travel to Mexico to see the Monarch butterflies!
3~ let go of my bedroom furniture, and get the furniture I really want!
4~ continue to share my story through public speaking!
5~ eat healthier more often! 
6~ detoxify my body!
7~ restore my body to it's natural vibrancy!
8~ start a meditative dance group!
9~ welcome the love of my life, into my life!
10~travel around the continent, in a camper truck, with the love of my life!
11~be paid well for doing what I love!
12~forgive quicker!
13~let go of guilt!
14~tell the people that I love, how much they mean to me, more often!
15~take a hot air balloon ride!
16~and go hangliding! 
17~and ride in a biplane! (can you tell I love the freedom of the open sky!!
18~go on a spa vacation in a beautiful warm country!
19~let go of needless worry &amp; anxiety!
20~laugh more!
21~sleep like a peaceful baby!
22~sing onstage @ a sunday service!
23~be more of my true self more often!
22~be silly more often!
23~wear a sari!
24~accept compliments easy and graciously!
25~meditate daily!
26~do more readings @ my spiritual centre!
27~continue to write in my blog, openly and honestly!
28~believe in myself and my abilities more!
29~be more generous!
30~be more grateful!
31~dance more!
32~travel to Italy!
33~spend more time with Mom!
34~do more ramdom acts of kindness!
35~follow my instincts more!
36~share my gifts more openly!
37~let go of back pain, and all pain, for that matter!
38~get my passport, so I can go to Italy &amp; Mexico, and lots of other places!
39~spend more time out in nature!
40~handle my prosperity in the best way!
41~go to a nude beach!
42~learn to quilt!
43~travel across the country, all summer, attending folk festivals!
44~attend a toastmaster's group!
45~be a nude model for an art class!
46~sing more!
47~swim with dolphins!
48~ride in a glass bottomed boat!
49~be content with myself, just as I am!
50~This is a big one, and writing it down feels very powerful, and pretty scary ~ I've been having this vision, in my head, for a few years now, where I am living, with the love of my life, in a big, beautiful, yellow house.  It's a home full of light, love and laughter, where family and friends feel at home.  Life is simple and easy, and love flows freely.  I'm ready to allow this dream to become a reality.

That's my list for now.  It feels really awesome to share it with all of you.  Thanks for reading.

Blessings,
Robbin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-8982747998569151838?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/8982747998569151838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/01/path-of-dreams.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/8982747998569151838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/8982747998569151838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2010/01/path-of-dreams.html' title='The Path of Dreams'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0aF3hdLSsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Z_V6y2KTIzE/s72-c/forest+path.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-7391015492315015787</id><published>2009-12-27T22:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T23:19:08.885-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Allowing Forgiveness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/Szg6qNVlUdI/AAAAAAAAAGc/BTRrZBzGVLg/s1600-h/Womaninthewind.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/Szg6qNVlUdI/AAAAAAAAAGc/BTRrZBzGVLg/s200/Womaninthewind.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420146648349495762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
It's been weeks since I've posted anything. All that pre-Christmas stress, I guess.  I never realize how much it stresses me out, until it's all over, and I start coming back down to earth.  Anyway, I wanted to post this reading that I did at my spiritual centre today. It started out as just a reflection about my last year, but Spirit had another idea.  Spirit wanted me to write about how I learned to forgive my Dad.  I had a very cathartic experience writing it, and reading it. I hope it is helpful for someone.

As another year comes to an end, I find myself feeling reflective.  Some years, as I look back, seem rather uneventful, even downright boring.  But not this year.  This one was very different; full of adventures and new experiences.  This year I took risks, that I would have never thought possible, in my wildest dreams. 
For instance; 
~ I began facilitating a group for people dealing with social anxiety. 
~ I started a new job, in a totally new field.
~ I became a lot more adventurous with my singing, and even went outside my safe little comfort zone here, and sang in front of complete strangers….and I loved it!!
~ I took part in an art project, where I posed nude, for the first time ever…now that was a liberating experience!
~ And I even started a blog, where I write about my adventures and my thoughts.
And though, these things were all amazingly wonderful, and believe me, they all were, there was something else that happened this year, that I could not have ever imagined, and in fact, I had pretty much given up on.  This year, I found myself letting go of my anger towards my Dad, and I actually found myself feeling forgiveness for him.  Believe me, when I say, I didn’t think that would ever happen.  I’ve been angry at him forever, and if you knew my story, you would probably say that I was justified in that anger.  But even so, it was killing me.  And so, I would pray, over and over again, for some kind of resolution; and yet, I stayed angry.  For years now, I’ve been trying to get my Dad to acknowledge his abusive behavior…towards me, my mom, and my siblings. But he wouldn’t, or maybe he couldn’t.  Anyway, I finally felt I had no choice, but to let him go.  So, I barely had contact with him, for most of 2008 &amp; 2009, and let myself grieve the loss of him.  That grieving took hold of my life, and it called out to be expressed.  So…..I allowed myself to express it.  Over and over again, in various ways.  I talked about it, with my friends, until I couldn’t talk about it anymore.  I cried a lot….and then I slept a lot.  I would come to service here on Sundays, sometimes barely able to hold myself up, but because I knew that there were amazing people here, who would love and support me, through my pain…and they did.  I would come to karaoke, and sing out my anger, time and time again, until there was no anger left to sing.  And then, I would do it all again, the next time.  On one particularly rough day for me, the day of the work party, I showed up.  I knew I was in no shape to work, but my car just seemed to drive me here, knowing better than me, what I needed.  I walked in, and there was Donna, and she took one look at me,  gave me a hug, and the tears started flowing, and they flowed, and they flowed, and they flowed, for what seemed like hours, and all that time she held my hand, and comforted me, just like an angel.  During all of this, I really felt like I was being held in the hands of God.  I tell you all of this, because these things were what helped me to heal my heart, and let go of my anger, and to finally forgive my Dad.  As I let my feelings come to the surface, and let them out, no longer stuffing them away, something started shifting in me.  As I allowed others to love and support me, through my anger and my grief, my heart began to soften.  I started to feel different.  Lighter, happier, more joyful, and more loving.  And that love started to fill all the places, in me, that had previously been holding all that anger, and it started bubbling up, and flowing out of me.  Then I started to see my Dad differently.  I started to really see the hurt little boy that he still was, and that he had never had a whole lot of people like you, filling him up with love, and then I started to feel compassion for him.  And it felt soooo good to finally let go of that anger.  To feel it leave my body, and fly out into the Universe.  It felt like freedom.   It still does.  I finally understood what people meant when they say that forgiveness is for you…not for the other person.  Then, another miracle started to happen.  I started to see how my Dad had actually given me the most incredible gift.  He gave me the reason, to have to search to the depths of my soul.  And in that searching, I found what I was really made of.  I found this incredible strength, I never knew I had.  I found tenacity, and resilience, and courage, and so many other gifts, just waiting for me to acknowledge them.  And that’s when I realized, that when I finally stopped focusing on getting something from my Dad, and started focusing on myself, instead, that I had everything I had needed all along.  I had it all within me, just waiting to be acknowledged. How amazing is that!  I will probably never have a real close relationship, with my Dad, but when I do see him now, I am quietly thankful and give thanks to him, for giving me the best gift ever.  The gift of ME.  Thanks for listening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-7391015492315015787?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/7391015492315015787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2009/12/allowing-forgiveness.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/7391015492315015787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/7391015492315015787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2009/12/allowing-forgiveness.html' title='Allowing Forgiveness'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/Szg6qNVlUdI/AAAAAAAAAGc/BTRrZBzGVLg/s72-c/Womaninthewind.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-3546878248691956905</id><published>2009-12-07T17:47:00.012-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T20:33:05.450-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Baring It All...Just As I Am</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/SyBd0ySmcOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/3vqa78W5UJQ/s1600-h/dancing+silouette.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/SyBd0ySmcOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/3vqa78W5UJQ/s200/dancing+silouette.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413429913533706466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
This past summer, I had the opportunity to take part in an amazing photo/art project called "Just As I Am".  It's the brainchild of Rodney &amp; Sonya Braun, owners of Eve Studios, in Winnipeg.  Here's a little blurb about the purpose of the project, &lt;strong&gt;"To create awareness of what regular human bodies look like, celebrate the beauty of the human form, and allow people to experience who they are when they have nothing to hide behind." &lt;/strong&gt;Recently, Sonya sent out a message to all participants, to ask how their lives had changed, since being in the project.  Below, is my reply to that question.



Hi Sonya &amp; Rodney,
 
Thanks for the chance to share my experience since baring it all with your "Just As I Am" project.  It has been a very profound experience for me, as I knew it would be.  As soon as I heard about your project, I knew instantly, that I would be participating.  It was that kind of knowing that comes from somewhere very mystical and magical.  That part of me, that always knows what's best for me.  And then, like usual, when my ego doesn't approve of my higher self's actions, a little debate started, that went kinda like this... &lt;strong&gt;"What are you thinking?" &lt;/strong&gt;... I'm thinking that I'm gonna do this.".... &lt;strong&gt;"Are you nuts?" &lt;/strong&gt;..."Maybe..maybe not."... &lt;strong&gt;"You mean to say, you're gonna let someone take your naked picture, and post it on a website, and put it in an art show, and totally let go of the rights?" &lt;/strong&gt;..."Yup, that's what I'm gonna do."... &lt;strong&gt;"You can't do that..for one, it's crazy, and for another, you are too fat and too ugly..don't you know, only pretty, thin people are allowed to do that...nobody wants to see you." &lt;/strong&gt;..."Maybe...maybe not...but I need to see me, and so I'm gonna do it."
 
And there it was. &lt;strong&gt;I needed to see ME.&lt;/strong&gt;  I didn't totally understand that, at the time.  And I didn't know how it would play out.  I just knew, with absolute certainty, that this was gonna be a very profound experience.  
 
I still remember the drive to the studio that day, and thinking to myself, "Why don't you just do a private photo shoot?  Why do something so public?"  But, I knew why.  I knew that this was my opportunity to stop living in shame, and it needed to be big.  It needed to be bigger than my shame.  Bigger than this self-loathing, that I've carried around forever.  And I needed to have no way to turn back.  Because I always turn back.  I always return to that shame.  But, not this time.  This time, I was gonna make sure that the only direction to go, was forward.   
 
What a surprise the first time I saw my picture.  It's not like I hadn't seen myself naked.  I'm pretty much a nudist at home, so I often see myself naked.  I knew what I looked like.  But, something totally different happens, when you see yourself in a photo...naked, vulnerable...captured in a moment in time.  You get to really see what others see. (or at least, what you think they see.)  At first, all I could see was my big belly, and my fat legs, and I felt embarassed and angry at myself.  How could I let myself get so big?  I could have asked why, as well, but I knew why.  I've always known why.  Food has  been my comfort...my protection...my way to keep all the bad memories stuffed neatly down.  The memories that were too painful to acknowledge.  The memories that have been screaming at me for a long, long time.  On that day, I knew that I was finally ready to listen.  Really listen...with my heart.  I was finally strong enough, courageous enough, to hear the truth, that I had always known, deep inside me.  
 
And so, that has been my experience, my work, since being in the project.  Coming to terms with what happened to me, long ago, and letting it go...finally.  I used to think that remembering would kill me, but the opposite is actaully true.  Remembering has set me free.  Holding on was killing me.  It's really such a relief to have those memories out of me...to let them have air...to let them float out, into the universe, and fly away.  And it's an on-going process.  Some days are really rough.  And some days are blissful, beyond belief.  The best part is that I'm starting to feel more whole, more alive, more authentic, and more worthy of love and goodness...and I hold on to that, on the hard days.  And the anger is slowly fading.  The anger that has been my steady companion, for a long time.  In it's place, I'm starting to feel a sense of peace and calm, and sometimes, even forgiveness and gratitude.  Gratitude for all the circumstances of my life, that have helped to shape me into the person, that I am today.  I would not be this person, had it not all happened...and I'm starting to really like and appreciate ME.  
 
I still see the big belly and the fat legs, when I look at my picture...but, today, I have compassion for this body...this beautiful body that has carried me through so much, with grace and dignity.  And I see other things.  I see courage, and kindness...trust, and faith.  I see the innocence of a little girl, and the determination of a strong woman.  And I see the willingness to share myself, with the world....Just As I Am.
 
Blessings,
Robbin
 
 
&lt;a href="justasiam.ca"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="justasiam.ca"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="justasiam.ca"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-3546878248691956905?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/3546878248691956905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2009/12/baring-it-alljust-as-i-am.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/3546878248691956905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/3546878248691956905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2009/12/baring-it-alljust-as-i-am.html' title='Baring It All...Just As I Am'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/SyBd0ySmcOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/3vqa78W5UJQ/s72-c/dancing+silouette.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-8267652691741723380</id><published>2009-11-14T21:00:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T01:46:23.147-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And the heavens opened, and angels fell from the sky...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/Sv-xwa0FuZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Z7ljRTRttE0/s1600-h/ANGELS.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 108px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/Sv-xwa0FuZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Z7ljRTRttE0/s200/ANGELS.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404233523257522578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Angels are everywhere, if we just open our eyes, and allow ourselves to see them.  

I have a friend, who says she has never seen anyone, who has as much emotional support, in there life, as I do.  And she's right.  I am blessed with countless angels, in my life.  I am so blessed...and I am so grateful.

But, even though these angels are all around me, I still keep trying to do it all on my own.  I'm always trying to be strong and tough, and hold it all together.  But, sometimes, it just won't be held anymore, and the dam bursts open.  Well, my dam burst today.  It burst wide open.  And the water flowed all around....and it flowed, and it flowed, and it flowed.  And it just kept on flowing, until there was nothing left.  

Thank you, my beautiful angels...thank you for your tender loving care, and for creating a safe space for me, and for holding me up, so that I could let go.  

All is well.

Blessings,
Robbin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-8267652691741723380?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/8267652691741723380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2009/11/and-heavens-opened-and-angels-fell-from.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/8267652691741723380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/8267652691741723380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2009/11/and-heavens-opened-and-angels-fell-from.html' title='And the heavens opened, and angels fell from the sky...'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/Sv-xwa0FuZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Z7ljRTRttE0/s72-c/ANGELS.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-8566918243367667560</id><published>2009-11-12T22:07:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T08:27:10.300-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Renovation is messy stuff...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/SyEFL1Bm3yI/AAAAAAAAAGU/Ec80TpNYlAQ/s1600-h/flu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 129px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/SyEFL1Bm3yI/AAAAAAAAAGU/Ec80TpNYlAQ/s200/flu.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413613927846567714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Day 2 of my blog...day 10 of this cold.  Still laying low...still moving slow.  It's funny how little things get really exciting when you're sick.  The big excitement for me today was doing my laundry.  Woohoo...I can wear my favorite underwear tomorrow, and tonight I get to slip into a fresh bed.  Just thinking about it now, is putting a smile on my face.  They seem like such simple things, and yet, at this moment, they mean the world to me.  

And yet, underneath all this quietness, I know that something really big is going on. It's like  a major renovation is happening within.  I know that my body is just facilitating a major letting go process, and physically helping me let go of a build up of old crap, that I've decided I can now release.  

So, I welcome it.  I allow my body to help me let go of the toxic anger, that has surrounded my heart for so long.  I release it to the universe, and I say thank you, as I feel my heart soften and open.  All is good.

Blessings,
Robbin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-8566918243367667560?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/8566918243367667560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2009/11/renovation-is-messy-stuff.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/8566918243367667560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/8566918243367667560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2009/11/renovation-is-messy-stuff.html' title='Renovation is messy stuff...'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/SyEFL1Bm3yI/AAAAAAAAAGU/Ec80TpNYlAQ/s72-c/flu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8575813884405797427.post-1726056768245149524</id><published>2009-11-11T21:03:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T00:22:37.234-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The geese made me do it...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/SwCS5xsfCOI/AAAAAAAAACY/ThDqxzC4BYI/s1600-h/geese.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/SwCS5xsfCOI/AAAAAAAAACY/ThDqxzC4BYI/s200/geese.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404481074134714594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Sometimes I feel like the old bird woman from the Mary Poppins movie.  A bag of birdseed, and a hungry flock of geese, and I'm in heaven...instantly connected to myself and the universe.  It's like magic.  My mind clears, my heart softens, and suddenly I'm able to hear the inner workings of my spirit.  

I didn't expect to see my feathered friends today.  In fact, they would usually have all flown south by now.  Lucky for me, we're having unseasonably warm weather for November.  I really only meant to go out for a drive, a change of scenery, and a breath of fresh air.  It's day 9 of this flu, and I just needed to see something else besides the TV, and this computer screen.  But, I wasn't really surprised when my car found it's way to the park.  Some part of me knew what I needed.  

But I was surprised by what happened next.  Remember how I said that I can hear better, with the geese.  It's true. I get all kinds of messages and wisdom, and ideas that are amazing and wonderful.  And sometimes, I hear things that just seem plain crazy. Like today. Today, I heard "start a blog".  And then, of course, I had that little conversation in my head that goes kinda like this, "What did you just say?  Did you just say, start a blog.  Why would I start a blog?  What do I have to write about?  Who would want to read my blog anyway? Are you crazy?  I'm not starting a blog.  About what?  About my life?  Right..people wanna read a blog about my life.  I don't think so."  Anyway, this went on for a while, as usual, when I'm  feeling resistant and uncomfortable with what my higher self wants me to do., Well, that was a few hours ago, and you can see who won this one.  

So, I'm writing a blog.  I have no idea why, or if anyone is interested in reading about me, and my adventures, but I'm gonna do it anyway.  I'm gonna trust the geese.  They have never led me wrong before.

Blessings, 
Robbin !!

P.S.  I would also like to honor my Father here today, who is a World War II veteran.  I haven't always been able to honor his bravery, because, for so long, I was really angry about the sacrifice that the rest of the family had to live with, because of what the war had taken away from him, and how it had hurt him.  I'm not so angry anymore.  He had no choice in the situation, and he did his duty with honor.  I still do not believe in war, but I know that my Dad did what he had to at the time.  Thanks Dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8575813884405797427-1726056768245149524?l=flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/feeds/1726056768245149524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2009/11/geese-made-me-do-it.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/1726056768245149524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8575813884405797427/posts/default/1726056768245149524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flyingallthewayhome.blogspot.com/2009/11/geese-made-me-do-it.html' title='The geese made me do it...'/><author><name>Robbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09466781041339380388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/S0an_U-vIFI/AAAAAAAAAHE/QvlhwUBUcnA/S220/DSC00058.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SkbPb0UY3l4/SwCS5xsfCOI/AAAAAAAAACY/ThDqxzC4BYI/s72-c/geese.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
