I felt comfort and peace, realizing within a few seconds, this is what’s been missing in my life. Her presence gifted me a feeling of hope, as though ANY and EVERY problem would be solved without struggle or strife. It wouldn’t take a decade to solve a challenge that could be solved in a day, nor would it take so much pain, caused by deliberate push back.
Her caring, productive energy, so forward-thinking…I felt she truly was trying to help us, such an uplifting and inspirational energy. She usually doesn’t speak to me in my dreams, not that she needs to, but I always understand and know exactly the message she is trying to bring to me. She was standing in front of me, holding up a set of lovely curtains that she made herself, I knew this automatically, because she was quite the seamstress when she was alive. Upholstering old pieces of furniture, making them look beautiful and classic, which always blew me away. This was a natural skill she had, that I did not inherit, but always respected and admired her for it, which I told her when she was in the flesh.
Behind her was an array of curtains, of many different, styles, patterns and colours, beautiful, and looked of quality. I thought, How did she do so much work, in such a short amount of time?? And why did I assume that she had less time? This is the thing about dreams, they can immediately make sense, or have you questioning, with logic, which you’re really not supposed to do, because dreams do not always walk straight…
My spirit told me that Mom was trying to show me something, and it was beyond the curtains, so when I awoke, I made note of the dream, and made note to tell my father the next time that we speak on the phone. This was a dream that had a message for ALL of us, and she deserves reciprocity for all that she did for us, with a clean heart. I will continue in my next post, Have good night and Good sleep!
I approached the corridors slowly opening them, to make sure that there wasn’t anybody behind them, possibly sitting or laying on the floor, I didn’t know what to expect. I couldn’t help but notice the homelessness displayed in a different way than I was accustomed to, on the drive up. It bothered my spirit, when I saw a glass bus shelterfilled to the brim with a bunch of stuff, clothes, belongings, looking like a mini bachelor pad. I was taken aback, and saddened, as I pointed it out to my Aunt while she was driving.This was my first time time witnessing a fully occupied bus shelter, it looked unreal, and established, as though the city allowed it to be that way...
My eyes felt slightly heavy from not getting adequate sleep, as I continued to stress through the days and nights. I was walking, feeling as though I was semi floating, my feet felt lighter for some reason. I almost felt as though I was in a dream, what tends to happen when I end up in places, that are oh so familiar, yet a mystery. The energy and vibe of the place was sooo laid back, it felt like walking back in time, into simpler times, like the 90’s. The aroma was the first thing I first noticed,very familiar and pleasant and had a hint of sweet, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it...a lingering perfume or cologne, which was not overbearing. It reminded me of a popular scent from the 90’s, a vibe, familiar, a generic scent, that everyone was wearing back in the day, the ones that everyone would be wearing after free samples were handed out in the mall. I truly felt as though I was walking through the 90’s, it was so cool, yet so strange! lol At that moment, I definitely felt my age! I wished there was somebody with me, to ask if they recognized that throw back scent!
I made my way to the front desk, to ask for assistance as I was instructed to do, prior to my arrival, for security reasons. Guests are instructed to ask for security and take the elevator, or something of the sort, however they weren’t much help, so I continued on my own, making my way to what looked like the door to a stairwell. Yes, Bingo! I entered the stairwell, and it looked strangely familiar,the colour of the carpet, the feel beneath my feet, the texture WOW, it definitely had NOT been changed. It had an almost bouncy feel, like you could run or work out on it, looking as though it had not been changed, since the conception of this Centre. My feet quickly pranced along, and I found the door that I needed, I noticed the energy on the floor, was almost too calm, as though there had never been anybody on it. So quiet, slow-paced, laid back, helped to put me at ease, as I was not here, for leisure, I had an important, and urgent task to accomplish. The blessing in this task, brought me closer to my overall goal, and I did get a sense of closure after I left…I will continue in my next blog.
I stopped for a few seconds to take a quick pic of the stairwell, because it truly brought me back in time.
It was nice to take a different route, I love looking out of the window, seeing areas that I grew up, and haven’t seen in the longest time, until an important task or errand takes me out there. Bringing me a feeling of comfort, safety, curiosity, slight confusion, and beautiful nostalgia. I’ve felt at times as though I tripped back in time, and I’m trying to makes sense of where, what and how, I ended up in a particular place. I continue trying to piece together, pieces of my childhood that I feel as though are missing, or fragmented. I strive to figure out where they fit, like trying to complete a puzzle. I was telling my Auntie this, as we drove down the Gardiner Expressway, and I was taking in the the “Grass Art”, and the advertisement logos, that have been there from back in the day. I explained to her that every time I see them, I flash back to sitting in the back of a taxi cab, at night, gazing out of the window as cars speed by, capturing the night scene, the waterfront, the grass art, the vibe of the city. And, although, I do not know where we are going, I do not ask, and sit quiet with the rest in the back, fighting heavy eyelids, trying to stay awake, until we arrive at our destination, because waking up in an unknown place can be a tad traumatizing. Do you remember those days, as child? Falling asleep during a loooong car ride, and being woke up to a different place, space and time? As your Mom gently touches your shoulder, and rocks you to wake you up, your eyes slowly open and you felt as though you were sleeping for centuries, like a sleeping giant from from the children’s story book…
Moments and memories embedded in my soul, the city awakens in me, regardless of the occasion. We touched down many diverse spaces, due to circumstances that were beyond my control. I was innocent and not old enough to grasp the magnitude of how much we endured, along with Mom, alone, and how it must have been from Mom’s point of view. She modestly navigated areas of the city, diverse spaces, with us gathered around her, while she pushed a stroller with a small baby and a toddler, walking beside her, walking in front of her, holding her hand if she had one free to hold. Watching her carry bags, along with a baby bag, just to run a simple errand…Damn…It can be challenging doing it alone, car-less, on a tight budget, moving quickly through rush hour, on guard for personal safety, and terrible drivers! So, how did she do it everyday, all alone??
First off, I hope that you had a productive 2024 as we’re blessed to have made it through!! As the end of the year approached, after my birthday passed in November, I was proud of myself for navigating the year without compromise. This included taking a necessary break from social media, and although I wasn’t posting, I remained plugged into mainstream media, and all of the sad news that affects my spirit. I try not to absorb all of the pain and suffering that I see, which has become more difficult to do, due to the homelessness that is spreading all over the city, around the least unexpected corner. It became another strange norm, that I never thought I would see in real life, as some of these folks that approached me, reminded me of vintage Hollywood, my absolute favourite film era. On one almost perfect weather summer afternoon, a well dressed, clean looking gentleman, wearing a pair of tan coloured tailored slacks, with a collard green sleeveless shirt, fit to size, ran across the street and calmly approached me. I noticed how neatly combed his hair was, which reminded me of a 1930’s paperboy. He looked as though he walked out of another time period, like a 1930’s novel character, who crossed over from another dimension. His attire was current, yet old and “retro” style, at the same time. He approached me, and politely asked for change, running from across the other side of the street, as though he had spotted me. His energy was peaceful, and innocent, as he calmly approached me as though he knew me. His energy was unexplainable, almost as though he was not human. His energy was clean from what I could read, and I really wanted to help him, feeling as though the others around would ignore him. I was walking towards the busy grocery store, hoping to be in-and-out, grabbing a few items. I let him know I would give him some change after I was finished in the store, real quick. He said okay, and once I exited the store, he was gone. So, I scoured the whole area, looking to see if he was lingering around, but he was gone. I felt weird inside, and thought to myself, Where the heck did that dude go?? I was very quick in the store, and I have a handful of change to give him. I confused, and more weird for some reason, and was not sure why. Maybe it was his attire and energy, he didn’t seem real…and I wish someone was with me, so they could’ve witnessed him. Would they have seen him the way I did? And would they have noticed his attire they way I did? And would they have question WHERE he came from? Because, the way this city has changed and the direction that it’s going is quite confusing, and the prevalent homelessness crisis, does not have a “face”, and there is no way to ignore it. What is going on with this city??!
Later that evening I went back out before it dark, walking in the opposite direction, and noticed on the sidewalk a trail of dimes and nickels, before I reached the stoplight. It was so strange that they were laid out literally as a trail, as though placed purposely. The side walk was empty, and I thought to myself before picking them up, why couldn’t that young man be the one to find these? If he were around, I would give these to him…that simple. Blessed New Year to you, Happy 2025:)
Some people in my life have called me an”old soul”, some have said I “overthink”…..I had to look up the word, “overthink” to confirm if it is a real word, well it is lol, and I’m okay with that title, but at one point I took it very personal if I was told that…..I have accepted that I have a tendency to overthink, except now, I’ve reserved it for situations that it’s needed. I found a new love and appreciation for my “overthinking” because it’s helped me navigate through challenging situations and come out okay in the end.
I feel that many “sticky” situations in life could be prevented by simply thinking twice BEFORE you do what your first instinct is. But it wasn’t always that way. I had to train myself to balance my logic&emotions, even in times where my emotions wanted to take over…..There’s been several occasions where a bad situation didn’t turn to worse because I didn’t allow it to…..
My overthinking has helped to prevent altercations/fights from breaking out or continuing…..I didn’t get the last word when I felt I deserved to have it. I stood strong as a drunken verbal attack from a loved one almost provoked me to say words that I knew I could never take back once they left my lips…..I want you to know that in the angry moment, I felt overthinking was making me feel like a fool, because I actually wanted to go off of my first instinct, which was to defend myself without regarding the consequence. I am not perfect. The satisfaction I feel when I look back at how a situation could’ve panned out had I not thought it through, even for a five seconds, the consequences would’ve been worse to live with. Cutting my loses and using my brain, being the one to back down, are all encompassed in my “Pound of Prevention.” I give credit to the quote that inspired my blog title. Respect to Benjamin Franklin.
I always loved that saying…..I used to wonder how that saying could be missed by many. It makes so much sense to me…..
I was in the midst of writing another blog, but something came up that I felt was necessary to share with you. If you keep up with my blogs, then you probably read the blog where I spoke on very disturbing news from an old friend, who I’ve known for over fifteen years. I received an unexpected phone call from him , I thought I’d never hear from him again. The last time we spoke, I made it clear that I did not want to talk to this person again, due to the unhealthy pattern that was developing, me becoming angry and frustrated.
Well, in the time since that blog was posted, there hasn’t been any progress or change in the situation. I tried to be as supportive as I could and be an ear when he needed one, I also tried to encourage him to talk to his doctor, since he told me that the doctor asked him if he actually talks to anybody about his feelings…..The doctor informed him that stress and anger will have a toxic effect on his already worsening condition, so talking to somebody, getting his issues off of his chest is imperative to his health. He chose to share this information with me…..I didn’t ask him. He told me that the medication he was taking was giving him side effects that he couldn’t handle. He said he didn’t want to be stuck “taking pills” forever…..I listened and understood where he was coming from, however, I didn’t know why he was telling me so many details about this…..I cared, but he wasn’t taking care of his health regardless of the medication. He was continuing to drink alcohol on a daily basis, which was the original reason why I stayed away from him, it put a strain on our friendship for years. I couldn’t stand by and watch him slowly poison himself, so I asked him to please stop calling me because I had run out of things to say about this situation, I had run out of patience , pretending as though I wasn’t fed up, tired and slightly disgusted.
I came to the conclusion that my words were not as important to him as they were to me. I meant every word I said and every offer I gave to support was sincere. The years I gave my attention, my concern, and my dedication to his issue had left me nearly speechless.
I would hope my friends would be be there for me if I was going through a severe health issue but I thought that a “real” friend was supposed to try to help prevent you from going down a dangerous path. A path that may lead you to an early death…..The previous hospital scare got to me, I thought about how I would’ve handled the news, had he not came out okay and passed away that night…..I was still dealing with the dysfunctional aftermath of my mother’s passing…..If I am a “real” friend, then shouldn’t loyalty be the be TOP priority??? That’s what I feel, that’s how I’ve always operated. Loyalty is what makes a friend an actual friend. Without that component, your friend may as well be called an “acquaintance” who you happen to spend time with. I’m learning and coming to the sad reality that the value of friendship, the definition to me is different than how most define it. I feel it’s sacred to be able to maintain a friendship for years and years, and be able to help each other PROGRESS in life. I do not feel it is okay to be a quiet spectator in watching a person slowly destroy them self. How can I be loyal to you, if I help to enable you to hurt yourself. I can’t just sit on the phone and chat away to help you pass the time away as you push yourself into passing away…..That rhymed by accident, lol, but I meant every word of it, and that sums up what I told him. There’s more I’d like to say on this topic, but I will save it for another blog.
I remember seeing my father leave, and thinking he was coming back, expecting him to come back, since he always did. The time that he was gone seemed to go by fast, and when he returned, it was almost like he never left, until one day I realized that I hadn’t seen him for a long time…..It was longer than usual……But I didn’t ask my mother where he was…I never questioned where my dad was, why he was gone, or when he was coming back. I went about life as though he wasn’t even gone. I distinctly remembered the last words “I will get it for you…..” I had been asking for a my little pony for weeks, I wasn’t the type of child who constantly asked for toys, so he reassured me that he didn’t forget. I felt happy and excited in anticipation of my toy, then I fell asleep……
The next time I saw him was at a jail visit with my family. He looked funny behind the glass, as I saw him walk out in a strange blue two piece cotton suit with strange flat shoes….His hair looked……different. I had never seen my father look that way before…He looked like my father, but something was missing…I was confused. It was my turn to speak to him on that telephone cord thing, that I found to be an interesting, contraption…..I didn’t understand why I had to speak to him on it, and behind glass…..I noticed the officer man on the wall standing behind him. He was watching my father as he spoke to me. I found the whole experience awkward and unnatural, yet I was glad I was able to see him…..
As we were leaving the facility many thoughts were running through my mind….1. Why did I have to be “dressed up” to go in that place? 2. Why was the visit so short? 3. Why did we have to talk to him behind glass? 4. Why is this place so far away from the city? 5. Why are there so many rocks on this road with no sidewalk??…..
My first visit to a prison was unforgettable. I was aware of what it was but there were so many whys that I was curious about, that needed to be answered…..My father was not a bad person, he never hurt me, so why was he there??? Why did he have to talk to me behind glass on a phone???…..
I wanted answers, but I didn’t feel the desire to ask my mother for some reason…..I felt as though this should have been explained to me, but my gut told me that there was a reason why my mother didn’t speak on it. I kept these questions to myself, I didn’t speak on them with my siblings…..I just pondered…..
The events that lead up to that day weren’t erased from my mind, I knew bad things continued to happen, I was witness to them. I understood my dad had been in trouble with the law but I was a child, and my innocence was beginning to wear thin…..I wanted straight answers, but didn’t feel I had the right to ask about this new situation. It was one of the experiences I’ve had that contributed to my deep rooted issue with closure.….There’s more to come…..Stay tuned.
I was pleasantly surprised at an apology that I received the other day from my friend. Something was said to me weeks ago that offended me and slightly hurt my feelings. The apology came at the right time, and it reinforced our friendship. I was not expecting that apology at that point in time, and it reminded me of why we are friends. We’ve had our fair share of arguments and disagreements over the years yet have always managed to maintain our friendship and talk openly about our difference of opinion. The debates we have often end up in heated arguments. It could be our because our zodiac signs clash, or we’re both stubborn and head strong. I have apologized in the past for any words/actions that I have done, as soon as I realize what I have said or done has been insulting. I do not allow my ego to get in the way of apologizing even when I know I was not all the way wrong…..
I have always found an apology to be a strange concept because, just because you apologize, doesn’t mean your sorry, and just because you don’t apologize doesn’t mean you’re NOT sorry. People apologize for the smallest things because it’s just “polite” to do so. Being from Canada, I hear apologies on a daily basis from complete strangers. A person will apologize for simply brushing you lightly when walking by, or stepping in your way by accident, or not seeing you coming and closing the door on you instead of doing the normal 1o second hold…I love that about Canada…by the way…..
One of my favourite songs of all time is “I Apologize” by Anita Baker. The melodic sound and the lyrics touched me in my pre-teens. It sent an example by saying, “I knew I was wrong……” I KNEW I was WRONG. Admitting you are wrong is the most important part of an apology, simply acknowledging it and allowing those words to flow out of your mouth, can repair or revive a broken or damaged relationship. It can also strengthen a relationship as well. I remember taking in an apology from my ex-boyfriend from high school. We were all grown up when he apologized for something he did in his teens. I gave him the opportunity to apologize by meeting up with him at his request. After we talked, and he made his apology, I saw how much it meant to him to have me accept his apology. I grew a little inside that day, it helped me mature into real Adulthood.
I have lowered my expectations as I’ve grown older as to how and when I’ll accept an apology. The gesture itself holds more merit these days since “bad manners” seem to be in style. An apology that is insincere from a person who has difficulty apologizing means more than the actual words coming out of their mouth. I give them an A for effort :), however I will not put myself around anyone who refuses to acknowledge that an apology is necessary to open up the doors of healthy communication…..
I will get more into apologies in Part 2 of this blog. Take care Until then 🙂
I remember growing pains as a child…..My legs feeling sore, aching, uncomfortable…..It was an awkward type of pain that was new. I’d go to Mom and tell her that my legs are hurting again…she’d say, “Oh don’t worry, hush, you’re just having “growing pains”…..”
Growing pains felt like they’d never end. I used to lay in bed and try to fall asleep just to not have to deal with them. The only comfort I could give myself was knowing that I’m actually GROWING, so I’d be a little taller…..eventually. I’d feel better by the next day, I wondered if I actually did grow, and sometimes even checked to see if there were results. Of course, I couldn’t see the results but I was relieved that the pain was over, and hoped it would be a long time before I had to feel them again.
Adults don’t have to deal with growing pains, not physical ones at least. But growing spiritually, facing yourself, truly acknowledging what needs to change in your life, can be as uncomfortable and awkward as growing pains. The pain can hit you out of the blue, and it may come up waaaay after an experience that you thought you was over…..
I had to make a difficult decision that was heart wrenching the other day. I didn’t attend a “family meeting” that the whole family was expected to attend. I’ve attended family meetings in the past, but this case was different…..I was concerned I would look as though I didn’t care, when I actually care a lot…I’ve cared too much actually. I knew not attending would be the best, healthiest choice at this point yet I still wrestled with my heart, gut, logic to come to a decision that I’d be at peace with. I felt guilty that I felt this way…..
I am very loyal to my family and extended family. I’ve made myself available to them whenever for whatever they need but I could not bring myself to fall victim once again to the same pattern that’s been repeating like a horrible deja vu. This has been going on for years since the untimely deaths of my uncle and mother, there’s been a disconnect that the family has suffered for almost a decade. I’ve watched as it’s slowly eroded the basic ability to interact and communicate within the family. One of my biggest fears was this becoming the norm so when I realized that I was starting to close myself off, and “hide in my shell” I began to practice doing the opposite. This helped me a lot after mom passed away. As the years went by it was easier for me to make a simple phone call to a relative that I rarely see. I became even more sensitive to the needs of others, and what would help them feel better, but I became sort of numb to how Itruly felt about what was going on. My grieving/mourning was interrupted and I didn’t even realize the damage it was doing to me….Until a year or two later…..
So, I decided the other day to not attend a family meeting because I felt as though there is not enough effort being put out by others to promote proper basic communication, and until I see a change, I will stay to myself. If anybody needs me, I have the same phone number, and they are welcome to give me a call, any time…..
I’ve grown as person because of this, however it’s very painful to go through and there is nothing I can do to prevent this pain…..
The pain comes along with the territory of growing, maturing into Adulthood and it will return……I’m okay with that.
Imagine if good advice came at a cost…..Have you ever received the best advice of your life and it paid off in ways that you couldn’t imagine? If a person provides you with advice that pays off, then shouldn’t that person deserve to be paid too? I’m kidding, but the other day I was thinking about the value of good, sound advice…..
I’ve taken advice from people from all walks of life, and the ones who were the least like me, happened to give the best lessons. I’m sure you have “that” friend who makes the worst decisions, but gives the best advice. I’ve asked, “Why did you do that though? You know better…..” their response, “I don’t want to see YOU go through it….” reminding me of a protective parent, I’d be a fool not to listen.
I consider the offering of sound advice a selfless gesture because the giver doesn’t know how you’ll take it, you may become defensive or feel offended, it’s a risk. I myself, have been on the receiving end of a friend/relative who took my advice as a “slap in the face” instead of a lesson to learn. I assume they were thinking, “What does she know, she has it easy……” but the truth is, I don’t have it any easier than they do. I’ve found acquaintances and strangers have been more receptive to my advice than a person who knows me. We trust people who don’t know us not to lead us astray, because we don’t know them enough to judge them as harsh for saying what we don’t want to hear.
The other night I was having a conversation with someone who comes from a completely different background than mine. I respect and admire this person, so when they addressed a bad habit that I have and began to mirror it back to me, I felt a tad embarrassed. My ego took a hit but I listened with discernment, as advice ensued…..
The next morning I woke up feeling brand new, not only did I get to the root of the problem behind the flaw, but I forgave myself for having it. (I’m still working on not being hard on myself…..) I decided to let that person know that their advice helped me, and how it helped me. They humbly accepted my thanks, as I did their advice.
In my opinion, the mark of a mature adult is the ability to accept and apply sound advice to your life. You’ll know the “sound” of sound advice when you hear it :).
Dawn Lovely says.................. 