The Front Row II (A short reflection on CHANGE)

With another birthday approaching, I am naturally reflecting on all things CHANGE (and no, I am not only talking about the spread in the middle)


It always fascinates me how deciding who gets a front row seat in the movie that is our lives isn’t exactly as simple as ordering a large popcorn and Slush Puppie.

Friends change, lovers drift, egos inflate, eyes open, lust rattles, death knocks, jobs morph, travel calls, masks drop, strategies shift, needs flip, kids drift, hearts evolve. You know, life happens?

While we are certain that CHANGE is the law of the universe (with seasons changing, leaves falling, blossoms springing effortlessly before our very eyes) I have often wondered why we find it so difficult to just “flow” with these changes especially as they affect key relationships.


Then it hit me : We are uneasy with movement, with change itself.


The old moulds are more warm and familar than a onesie, clouded in words like “loyalty” and “history”. Deciding to actively drop leaves, sprout flowers and reassign those name tags on the prime VIP spots in our life, ruffling feathers and inviting scrutiny challenges our comfy paradigms. Crap ain’t easy.

But it must be done.

So, as I mascara another grey hair this morning and try not to overthink my Kombucha ambitions, do allow me to send you my best good vibes as you contemplate your own selections.  

  • If you have to increase or decrease the number of seats, make that call.
  • If you are blessed that no rearrangement is necessary, scream “thank you!”; such blessing is never to be taken lightly.

…BUT yes, that seating chart needs to be issued. (Or else some random weeds will fill those vacant spots and then your garden will really be sad).

Go on…Today is a good day to think about that front row again.  Aluta continua, as they say.

#gratitude #reflections #alutacontinua

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2017.
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Is THIS it? (A reflection on why the h#ck we are here)

Why am I here?

What is my purpose?

Why do I feel like something is missing?

How can I be happy? 

Is THIS it?


Yes, I know it’s only Monday morning but surely you also ask yourself these very questions too. We all do!


And I bet you’ve dipped in and out of books, religion, dark incense clouded rooms and travel in a quest to closer to the “answers”. We all have!


But here’s the thing,


…We are all here at THIS very time in THIS very place TOGETHER and we are here for an EXPERIENCE.


The experience of goosebumps.

The experience of being warmed by fire.

The experience of learning.

The experience of synergy, alchemy, mystery, magic, “God”.

The experience of blooming, ageing.

The experience of vitality, abundance, creativity.

The experience of whispers and loud bangs.

The experience of chemistry and connection.

The experience of rain, pain and sunset.

The experience of recognition, resonance, mastery, reward, acknowledgement.

The experience of tasting a lemon.


…and even the experience of loss, illness, abandonment, tragedy, fear, resentment betrayal, loneliness and jealousy.


That’s the full package . 

That’s why we’re here.

And yes, to me at least, that’s IT. 


I figure that I may as well eassssssse into the EXPERIENCE, learn to ride the waves and flow with the current. You know? After all, none of us are getting out of here alive.


I reckon we may as well surrender to the journey….


Can YOU?


© A Heart Full of Stories, 2017




A Letter to a 20 Year Old ” Nice” Girl (On International Womens Day)

Today I wrote a letter. I had to. It’s been 20 years or more and I didn’t want to leave the words caged a day longer.

Opening the floodgates for the words to flow was, in fact, the hardest part of the exercise. Once I allowed it, the emotions sprang forth quite boldly, as if perhaps that was their destiny.

My letter (which I burned instead of posting), was one of PERMISSION.
Permission to be. Just be.
Permission to fail.
Permission to try.
Permission to shape shift.
Permission to outgrow.
Permission to shine.
Permission to fall apart.
Permission to hedge.
Permission to ask for help.
Permission to express pain and fear.
Permission to desire.
Permission to disappoint another.
Permission to detour.
Permission to rest.
Permission to go off in a direction that no one understands.

The fuller-bodied girl who I wrote the letter to knows all these things now but back then, gosh….back then, she was so very caught up in her quest of the veneer of being “nice” that the Levis 501 wearing fox pressed pause on her ability to live freely, authentically, wildly.

I ended off my letter by saying,
                          Darling, if only you could see yourself through my eyes, you would know that “perfection” is over rated. You would also know that you are enough. So bloody enough! ALL parts of you are okay. Not one of the parts you’ve guarded, veiled, denied, concealed and curated so carefully are “bad”. So, please do fall apart, deviate, desire, dare to disappoint. Do go to the darker-shaded parts of yourself. Visit a while. Let them guide you. They are there to show you little avenues you may otherwise never venture to explore. And, we do know that you love a good bout of exploration. Bon Voyage!  P.S. Your butt looks great in those Levis!




© A Heart Full of Stories, 2017