Parenting- The Way We View The World

Hello! Long time no write!

I realize it’s been an awfully long time since I’ve written anything for this website, but since I recently renewed the website itself and a friend of mine just asked me today to pull it together and start writing about parenting, I decided, fine…I’m in.

I can’t promise regular posts. I can’t promise I will offer you the best advice for your family. But I can promise to be honest and objective and share what I know for sure…this parenting gig is a lot of work, but damn, it’s pretty amazing.

I believe that parenting is simply teaching our children how we view the world.

Our parents were our primary teachers and they taught us how they view the world. They used the words and beliefs which were taught to them by their primary teachers and only changed them if they felt they didn’t work for them. We have the opportunity to do the same.

For example, if one or both of our parents were worriers, we learned how to worry. We learned how to speak and approach life with hesitation. We spent our days mimicking the distress we were taught and even though we didn’t know why, we learned, this is just the way it is. As we got older, we had a choice on if we want to continue with this worry pattern and training on how to perfect it, or if the worrying was uncomfortable enough to question why exactly we choose to partake in it. If the discomfort bothers us enough, we choose to learn something new, something that suits us better. A new belief, a new way of thinking, a new way to communicate. We alter the way we view the world.

All of this translates to how we parent. We share with them how we see life, the rules we have developed to live in it and the beliefs we hold around how we treat people, our loved ones and ourselves. We teach our children the manners we believe are important, our insight based on lessons we’ve learned the “hard” way, and a general appreciation of why people act the way they do. We teach them our fears, our prejudices, our shortcomings and our angst. We teach them where we find joy and just how to find it. We teach them what works for us. And, what doesn’t.

And this, my friends, is why I have not written in a while.

I am not the same person I was the last time I wrote. My views on life are not the same either. The more I experience and grow as a person, the more my view of life changes with it. And therefore, who I am as a parent is changing as well.

I’ve been a single parent for three years now. Scratch that- co parent- with my children’s father. I left my secure job as a school counselor to open a private practice in counseling and figure out what I want to do next for my career. I am changing and therefore, how I parent is changing.

I am growing into my authentic sense of myself and the more  authentic I feel as my own person, the more authentic I feel as a parent. My children are almost 10 and 13. They are no longer small children and I no longer treat them as such.

My daughter is a teenager and is extraordinarily insightful and sensitive and supportive, and I am learning to treat her as the person she is, not as I want her to be.

My son is turning double digits and he is double the fun he used to be! A wise little soul, he tells his momma how proud he is of her all the time…and then drives her nuts with his little boy behaviors that are a hallmark for exactly where he should be developmentally.

We are figuring out how to be a family within our means and how to successfully support each other, while bringing in the outside stressors daily- all of us.

I am incredibly grateful to be their mom and to teach them my view of the world.

And I’m also grateful to be able to share with you. Thanks for reading.

Making A Big Decision When You’re Not Sure Which Choice is Right

I am proud to announce that I recently had an article published on Tiny Buddha, a fantastic website which shares the wisdom and experience of others, and I am honored to be a writer added to that list.  This article teaches how to make major life decisions that are right for you…my latest forte. The opening quote comes from one of my favorite authors and psychologists who solidified my belief and understanding that we have the opportunity to learn from every experience in life, the identified “good” and the “bad” and how we view those experiences will determine our satisfaction and our personal growth.

“When we can no longer change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” ~Viktor Frankl

Over the last two and a half years I have made some big changes in my life. And by big, I mean enormous.

First, I moved with my husband and our children from a home I loved for ten years. Shortly after, my husband and I ended a twenty-year relationship and marriage. With that separation, I made the decision to buy the house we had moved to, which on paper, I shouldn’t have been able to buy.

Apparently ending a long commitment and beginning a large financial one on my own wasn’t enough for me though. The following year I resigned from a secure job to pursue a dream I hadn’t fully envisioned and started a business without projected goals.

When I list out all the changes, I start to question my own sanity.

I have never been one to make quick decisions, especially ones that I hadn’t thought through. I was raised by my father, a self-proclaimed workaholic, who spent his career as a high powered executive for a high risk industrial insurance company.

I was not bred to believe in taking chances, to live on instinct alone, and to leave anything that resembled security. You just don’t do that. But something was stirring in me that kept me unsettled.

I knew it was time to make changes, and I knew those changes were absolutely not guaranteed to work in my favor. I was scared—no, terrified—to alter the course of my life, but standing still gave me even more anxiety.

How do you make the decision to change your entire life and know it’s truly right for you?

I have a secret, one that I’ve used consistently in recent years when making decisions that weighed heavily on me.

It’s a technique that simplifies the agonizing back and forths of “should I or shouldn’t I?” One I wished I learned when I was younger to ward off some major bouts of indecisiveness and internal torment. Although in retrospect, I would not have been ready to use it until I was actually ready to hear it….Keep Reading

Teaching My Children to Live

I was eating dinner with my kids last night and we were literally eating the last of what I could find in the house to make. I was waiting for money to go to the grocery store and we had been waiting for what felt like an awfully long time. We talked of our temporary situation…more so, the temporary situation I put them in. I am constantly checking in with them about how they feel about my major life change and the decisions I’ve made. And every time, whether they mean it or not,  they seem completely unfazed and answer with cheerleading responses such as “you’ve got this Mom.” “I’m so glad you are doing what you love, Mom.” “It’s not a big deal, Mom” And with every little success I share with them, they act like I just discovered a new sugar cereal.

Our temporary situation is meant to be an upgrade and making the decision to upgrade was quite a risk. I resigned from my very stable school counseling job back in August and have been working to create a new career since. I had to take a couple of classes and study for an agonizing licensing board exam, but I am now a Licensed Professional Counselor in private practice. I am also a Master Instructor and practitioner of a very intense energy therapy which facilitates deep healing. And I’m beginning to slowly follow my passion for writing. Clearly very slowly, since I haven’t even written for this blog in many months! But life change will do that to you, throw you off track and go into overdrive trying to figure out what it is you’re doing. At least that’s what it does to me.

When I made the decision to leave my job and completely start over, I knew it was not a “smart” move. In fact, on paper, it seemed irresponsible. I have a mortgage, two dependent children, and no real end goal of where I wanted to be. Who leaves a secure job with a consistent income to follow a dream that materialized over night? Apparently, me.

I didn’t sleep for about a month as I plotted out my every move and how it would impact my children and myself. The flow chart of what if’s was well highlighted and new avenues of dead ends were developed nightly. I was filled with fear, but I knew underneath the fear, it was absolutely the right move. I distinctly remember questioning what it was that I wanted to teach my children during this time of transition. I wondered how my decisions would impact their view on life.

I know they watch me, trust me and see my strengths as infallible. Yet I also know they witness my weaknesses, frustrations and what it looks like when I sit in my fear. And I had to come to grips that it’s okay for them to see me as human, as long as they know and trust that I will rise above those weaknesses and make happen what I set out to do.

So what am I teaching my children?

~That trust is essential, especially trust in yourself and your own abilities.

~That life is full of choices and each of them offers us an opportunity to grow into ourselves.

~That you will always know how you are by listening to the way you feel.

~That progress comes from action. When you feel off, change it up. When you feel good, keep going.

~That the world supports you if you support yourself. Keep your intentions positive and when your perspective shifts to the negative, look at it, acknowledge it, and then prove it wrong.

~That nothing can take your power away, unless you hand it over.

~That if you can embrace your fear, you can also embrace your bravery.

In the moments I get stuck questioning myself, I must constantly reframe and look at my role as their teacher. Would I rather teach them to settle for what is comfortable in its discomfort or take the chance to be themselves in a life they personally create? And then I pray that we will all look back at this time of transition and appreciate the unwavering faith that keeps us going.

I have made mistakes, no doubt. But I have created more successes than I knew I could. And today, I am going to the grocery store and tonight, we will celebrate every one of those successes that have added up. I’ll take it.

Learning How To Recognize Our Own Voice

As a child, there was nothing more familiar than the sound of my parents’ voice. That voice guided my every move. I knew what the expectations were and what they wanted from me, and I knew exactly when I was ignoring it. Even when I was in trouble, the tone of disappointment was still proof that I was thought of and cared about and it was that tone I heard the next time I went to make the same mistake questioning whether it was worth it.

The voice of my parents was loud and prominent and as I grew older it was hard to decipher which voice was speaking to me when I was making decisions in my life. Are those my thoughts or the recorder of how I should think? It was hard to tell. I’d listen for the tones, but sometimes they all blended together.

As an adult and a parent in my own right, I hear the words of my father fly out all the time. They are tones of respect and expectation and authority. They speak words that symbolize strength and insight and responsibility. They are dominant words and I speak them with pride. Yet, there is a side of them that requires a softer touch and an explanation to compliment them. Those words have a tone I know distinctly as my own. I have grown to appreciate the balance between my words and his, and I’d like to think my children do as well.

The confusion for me sets in when life shifts in fast paces and I’m wavering on my feet. I hear my frantic voice looking for answers and instinctually the voice I grew up with pops in and guides me exactly where to go. But the older I get and the more life experience I gain on my own, I notice that those guides don’t fit me like they used to and I start to question that voice and wonder if it needs more independence, more depth and more of its own vocabulary to match the person using it.

And then the questions begin….

Is this the voice I want my children to hear?

What do I want to teach them?

What is the role I want to play in their life?

And most importantly, what do I want to teach myself?

So I step back and listen for the answers and sort through the words and listen for the tones and meanings behind them. And within those voices, I hear the not so distinct sound of my own. Softer and less confident, she’s in there and she actually has a lot to say. And when I listen, I really listen, I hear comfort and familiarity and honesty and bravery and I hear a woman who, in fact, is not wavering on her feet at all. And that’s her, the mother, the parent, the role model, the voice I want my children to hear and hold on to until their own voices are the loudest they hear. I like her, I respect her and I trust she will teach them well.

My hope is that when I hear my children use their own voices, which they give me snippets of often, I will make the effort to turn up the volume and let them explore just how loud they can be. And when it’s time to turn them back down again, show them that sometimes a harmony is exactly what we need.

Beautiful Boy

Beautiful boy, I’ve asked you not to grow.

In fact, I’ve insisted, but still those seeds you continue to sew.

Once again you ignore me,

As if my words hold no weight.

Don’t you realize that even with all my skills,

Time is not something I can manipulate?

I need to hold these days protected in my mind,

They are already sealed tight in my heart,

When you hug me with all your might,

And tell me we will never part.

I watch how your charm can light up a room,

With followers everywhere you go,

Amazed by your ability to love without hesitation,

I simply need to know,

How I was blessed to have you skip into my life,

And teach me what it means to live,

To let go of fear and dream bigger than ever,

And when faced with misfortune, to forgive.

I know you said I can’t call you my little boy any more,

But to me you will always be,

The thump of my heart, the melody in my voice,

And the little man of my destiny.

Happy 8th Birthday to My Beautiful Boy!

Confessions of the Real Tin Man

I have been working in public schools for almost half my life. My natural tendency is to help others dig deep and discover the cause of their discomfort and root of their “problem” so they can start to heal it and move on. I have listened to countless stories of grave mistreatment, dark and lonely sadness, debilitating anxiety and worry that attempts to make a permanent home in the psyche. I’ve also listened to bravery that exceeds what I knew to be possible and watched wildflowers bloom in a drought. The human spirit is amazing to watch and I am fortunate to do the work I do.

My mind is as analytical as they come (I know, shocking) and I use it to pick apart the complexity of what is handed to me in an effort to simplify and understand the whys, how’s and what ifs that we collectively face. The key to truly being able to dissect a behavior or situation is to step back and look at it from an outside perspective. Similar to watching one of those detective shows, I collect the data, piece it together with past experience and knowledge and then place it into the compartment where it fits best. Feelings analyzed, situation assessed, problem solved and explained. Done.

In order to do this method effectively, I have a strict rule of not emotionally attaching. I am allowed to feel the feelings to assess them and then I pass them back after the research has been done. I can do this all day long and by the time I am home from my 20 minute commute, I will have long forgotten the feelings of the day and move on to my own inner world. Am I a robot or the Tin Man? I’m not sure, but it is clear to me I always attempt to leave my heart at home where it’s best preserved and protected.

Recently, I was eating lunch with my friends at work. The day had been flowing great and I was feeling productive. At the end of lunch, one friend stayed behind and told me she had to tell me something in that serious tone of “you are just not going to like this.” She knows I don’t watch the news. I listened to her explain that one of our former students was found dead with a brief explanation of the bizarre cause. I continue to chew my last bite, thinking about the seemingly never ending cycle of death we kept facing as our school has had four deaths in the past year and how much more can a community take? But I am immune because I stay at arms length if not longer. Whatever you give me I can take.

And then she tells me the name as I swallow. I feel the food stop in the middle of my throat. What?? I feel the immediate sensation of tears coming up as the food tries to go down. They battle it out. I can swallow anything. You will go down. That’s where you belong. The food and tears have a standoff and almost simultaneously, I am able to swallow while the tears swell.

I am overcome with emotion and the thoughts race. How is this possible? This doesn’t make any sense. Not her. This can’t be. But I loved her. Wait, where are these emotions coming from? How did she get in? Why am I crying? Why does this hurt so much?

I spent the rest of the afternoon crying on and off. I mean like really crying. So so sad. And not empathy sad which is my normal mode. Of course I was deeply sad for her family, but this time, I was sad for myself. I was sad for my loss.

One memory after another flooded my vision. Her smiling face, the way we joked, how tough I was on her, how she responded to me and how I loved her. I loved her for who she was, not what I wanted her to be. I loved her for her mistakes and her really stupid decisions. Seriously, dumb stuff. But she knew it and admitted to them and was open and honest and lived as herself, not as an imposter. I loved how she expressed how she felt, no matter what it was, you knew how she was feeling. I also loved her for her drive to better her life and do right by others. Her intentions were always good, but they were also to survive. Survive in her painful world and make the best out of what was so very, very difficult. In every sense of the words, she was beautiful in her imperfection and I respected and admired her for that. And apparently, on a day I put my shield down, I let her into my heart and she has lived there since.

A day later, I was still crying. No idea why I was still feeling the pain. Isn’t it time to move on yet? I cried to my friend about how mad I was that I let her in, that I broke my rule and how it would never happen again, I heard myself say that she was the only one I could think of that I let slip through.

Because my dear friend is loving and respectful and talented, she gave me a slight look of surprise (her tact is exemplary) and somehow asked just the right questions to get me listing off all the kids I had attached to over the years. Turns out, there are many. So so many. This was a huge shock to me. I thought I was the Tin Man. I leave my heart at home where the wizard keeps it safe until I come looking for it.

I thought I was brave for keeping them out. I thought I was smart for staying on the outside. I thought I was doing my job well by not taking on their pain and keeping it with me. And in many ways, it is. But turns out, true bravery doesn’t keep them out, it lets them in. It teaches us to feel, to learn from others, to grow and be comfortable in our own imperfection. It allows us to connect and be caring and kind and speak our truth because we know that we appreciate hearing honesty as much as expressing our own.

And my truth is, once you let me into your heart, I will make a room for you in mine and I will keep you there and it will fill me up when I need to be topped off. And maybe, in truth, I’ve been the real Tin Man all along, my heart was always there, I just needed to be shown it to believe.

Q&A My Perspective: How Can I Avoid Going to Heaven?

QUESTION:

My four year old daughter has been thinking about what happens when one grows old, goes to heaven and why. I explained that taking really good care of your body and your mind is very important and when we are here, we need to take really good care of ourselves. Now she asks “will jumping on the trampoline make me not go to heaven?” I’m stuck…any ideas?

MY PERSPECTIVE:

Kudos! You gave a her a great response to an inevitable question! Developmentally, a four year questioning the unknown aspects of death is as common as gluten intolerance these days. And her follow up question is fabulous because it proves she is listening and ingesting your words. Excellent!

The tricky part is, in her mind, she asked a  simple black and white question. In our minds, the land of the gray, we hear a complex question filled with varied emotion and multiple answers. Immediately, we may recall our own fears and discomfort with death, our experiences, others’ experiences and even what could be our experience if our minds let us go there.  Yet, all she really asked was “So I need to stay healthy to not go to heaven. Is the trampoline my ticket to stick around?” (Or some 4 year old version of this question)

A response as simple as “Jumping on a trampoline doesn’t mean you won’t ever go to Heaven. We will all go to Heaven. The trampoline is great for your body and keeps your mind happy, so when you do go to Heaven someday, you can be proud of yourself for taking such good care of yourself while you were here.”  The key is to answer in black and white, not the gray we get stuck in.

If she wants more and seems to have fear associated with it, this could be an opportunity to explore with her what she thinks Heaven is.  The key to decreasing anxiety is making an unknown a known.  Ask her what does it look like, smell like, feel like? If its supposed to be so wonderful, why are we afraid to go there and trying to avoid it?

And perhaps she’s giving you an opportunity to explore this yourself.

Either way, if you speak from your heart, you can’t go wrong. And if you don’t speak from your heart, she’ll likely ask you over and over again until you do.  They’re funny little creatures like that.

Paging Super Mom

These days my life is filled with moments of content, peace and continuous excitement. My thoughts are many, but flowing with ease.  Balance is a word no longer foreign in meaning. I am living in the skin I was born with and it feels comfortable and form fitting. In short, its quite nice.

Many days I hear myself saying “I have arrived.” Quiet whispers of joy and gratitude- filled with dreams I know are coming to life. I wait for birds to sing me a Welcome Home lullaby…But instead as I sit quietly in my moment of bliss, I hear “Mommmmm! Mommmm!” shouting from the other room.

“Mommmmm!”

Why? Why? I am now yelling in my head.

And then I hear “Whattt!??” in a tone coming out of my mouth I recognize as frustration and irritability. Ewww…I am really no better than them.

More shouting “I was on my Ipod (for the past 2 hours and you didn’t notice) minding my own business and she just walked by and kicked me!”

“I did not!” She screeches. Then tears, then more yelling, then – silence.  Okay, the silence was mine. Maybe if I ignore them and act like I don’t hear them they will go away.

But they don’t go away. Now I hear heavy footsteps- heavy because they are pounding on the floor as they develop their 2 person frantic search party to see who can get to me first to tell their side of the story the loudest and most visibly upset.

My choice catch phrases start pouring out…”You need to figure this out, preferably in a way that doesn’t involve fists and feet. Don’t hit your brother. Don’t hit your sister. How does it feel when you spit those angry words out of your mouth? You might want to find another way to communicate how you are feeling. This isn’t working.”

Yet they continue their whiny rants.

The counselor in me searches for meaning, understanding, reason and peaceful resolution. The angry human in me wants to scream “Shut the hell up and go away!” and the mother in me is feeling guilt that I can’t fix their problems quickly enough to make sure no one is feeling pain. Especially me. Its so painful- and annoying-and maddening.

So as I stare at them- wondering who will come out of me, I page Super Mom, the combo of the three. Super Mom, the voice that shows respect, but the words that come out sensible and loving. She exudes wisdom and insight they can not deny or debate.  She speaks in matter of fact tones and does not raise her voice, but lowers it to show the seriousness and validity of the words. And when they attempt to interrupt, she quiets them in her, “No, you are here to listen and accept the help you’ve asked for” tone. Damn, that Super Mom is good.

And then I hear her clear her throat to begin…

“Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you to keep your hands and feet to yourself? I am NOT your referee. Figure it out. Until then, go to your rooms and leave me alone!!” she barks.

Hmmm…Super Mom? Sorry, she’s not available. She lost her patience at “Mommmm”. Please leave a message at the beep.

In reality, I am here to be their referee, their cheerleader and coach. I am here to be their counselor and their emotional punching bag, often at the same time. I am also here to tell them exactly what doesn’t work for them and offer suggestions for what does- even when they don’t ask for it.

If the expectation is to be Jack of All Trades- and it is- I will do it to the best of my ability, but they may not always like my ability, my humanness, my limits, but that is what I am able to offer. I am Super Mom, in her truest form.

Even when all else is flowing beautifully in my life, my role of mother keeps me grounded and rooted in reality. The reality that life is awesome, but there are moments of frustration and anger, of sadness and worry and setbacks. Lots of setbacks. But even within those setbacks comes opportunity to regroup and rebuild and understand the various parts of myself.  The calm, the loving and the imperfect.

And that Super Mom, is where it’s at.

Learning How to Fall in Love With Yourself

I am addicted to salt baths. I realize that DCF could show up at my house now that have stated that and its misunderstood…but I really mean salt baths, not to be confused with bath salts. I mean really, how many disastrous drugs can kids come up with these days?

But I digress, which is why I take so many salt baths. They help me focus, reconnect with myself and always, always provide some sort of epiphany or inspiration while I’m meditatively soaking. And today’s inspiration needs to be shared.

One of the intentions I set for myself for 2014 is to fall deeply in love with myself.  I thought it sounded nice and fairly important, but honestly, I wasn’t even sure what that meant or how to do it. So I asked myself what it means to be in love and I think of all the people and places and things I love in my life.

What does it mean to be in love?  To me, it means to adore and admire the attributes a person or place holds.  Its a feeling of being drawn in to what they have to offer, wanting to spend time in their presence, enjoying their company and how I feel around them.  When I leave someone or somewhere I love, I feel more peaceful and content.  It literally nourishes my soul.

And I find it easy to make a commitment to someone I love. If they need something, I want to help them with whatever it is as a return favor for the joy they bring in my life. I want them to feel joy, happiness and contentment.  I also want to them to feel loved and appreciated, because seriously, what’s better than that? I will take steps and actions to add this to their life and I will do so easily and with a giving heart.  And the bonus, it feels awesome to me.

So, if its so easy to be in love with someone else, why does it seem like such a challenge to fall in love with myself? How is it that I deserve any less than what I give to someone else? Turns out, it doesn’t need to be.

I know exactly how to love another which means I can do the same for myself. I know the steps it takes to build a relationship and the commitment involved. I know how to support and show appreciation and I know just how awesome it feels to get it in return. So why not fall in love with myself and treat myself with the same respect and admiration I do for everyone else?

Welcome to my inner thought process….

We all know and have heard that we need to take care of ourselves before we can take care of anyone else.  We nod in understanding when we hear the words, but the part of us that we put on the back burner says…”yeah, ok, I’ll fit it in…maybe.”

Why don’t we prioritize ourselves the way we do our children, our partners, our jobs?  What makes us so less important than anyone else?  What would you tell your child if you saw them treating or neglecting themselves the way you do yourself??

If we nurture ourselves, we will be able to nurture others more efficiently. If we respect ourselves, we will know exactly what it means to feel respect and be more open to giving it out.  If we embrace our less than pretty side and accept it for what it is, we will be less inclined to judge the less than pretty side of others.

Falling in love with ourselves allows us to fully appreciate the value we bring to the table…to everyone’s table!

And so begins my love affair with myself. I have a date day with me coming up and I’m not even sure what it looks like yet, but I know its going to be filled with things I like to do and be, impressing myself the best ways I know how. And yes, a salt bath will surely be on the agenda….

2013, the Year of Making My Own Light

As 2013 winds down, taking inventory of the year’s highs and lows feels inevitable. When 2013 started I had a feeling that it was going to be a great, transformative year. Turns out, it was. Great and transformative, yet equally painful and uncomfortable. Change is not easy, at least not for me.

When I look at the low points, the breakup of my marriage, my children learning to live in two houses, explaining my emotional and mental roller coaster to friends and family about 200,000 times, buying my home, housework, housework and more housework, the stress of my job, the stress of single motherhood, helping my children navigate their emotions as I try to understand my own…and the effort of releasing more tears than I knew a human can produce, it feels like a lot. Oh and let’s not forget, holding my head up high and wearing the mask of “all is well” just enough to believe it on the days that collapsing would have been so much easier. Good times.

Yet, when I look at the highlights, the real high points, I am amazed how many good things have happened to me and around me this past year. I faced some of my greatest fears and survived…not only survived, rocked them! I bought a house on my own and run a house on my own. I am teaching and raising two phenomenal human beings who I enjoy watching grow and thrive. I reconnected with my long time friend as our marriage ended and hashed out years of how and where things went wrong to understand the whys of where we are today. I learned to see that if a square peg doesn’t fit in a round hole, no one is actually at fault.

I enjoy my own company and have become one of my greatest allies. I made amazing new friendships, enhanced others and discovered just how valuable family is in my life. I started the book I always said I’d write and even wrote a children’s book. I meditate daily which I’ve always wanted to do. I stumbled across Integrated Energy Therapy in the Spring and became a Master Instructor by the Fall of an energy modality that supports me in miraculous ways as I shape my life, as well as allows me to help others while they shape theirs. I am more intuitive, positive, whole and together than perhaps ever in my life.

When I look back at my goals for 2013, the one that sticks out the most was “walk in the dark and make my own light.” If I knew how literal that would have been I wonder if I would have written it down. It was scary out there in the dark, but it did force me to access my own innate survival skills as well as see the beams of external support.

For someone like me, who analyzes every scenario, and plays out every outcome to see if the moves are safe, a year filled with unknowns is simply a lesson of practicing trust in oneself and the outcome before it reveals itself. And believing that whatever the end result is is exactly what I need.

So as I say farewell to 2013 I am even more hopeful and excited for what 2014 will bring. New adventures, new goals and experiences and always so much to learn.

Here’s to another year filled with awesomeness and light!

Happy New Year!