Wednesday, February 14, 2018



All of my dreams came true the day I met you. Every single one of them. You're all-encompassing, an embrace, a weaving, a satin scarf; for you I'd live a thousand lives over just to find you like I did that night, a look to my right, a seat by the fire. You are everything, all of it, each tiny fragment of all of my wishes bloomed into light.


Friday, September 29, 2017


What a beautiful summer it was
every day sunny, even in the rain
visions I once had now crystal clear and on the path before me;
your face in my light, the darkness behind me
everything was worth it, all of it, every little bit

a dancing of sun and moon rising
dreams I used to dream, blooming into life,
truly, there they are, here I am,
my heart is bountiful, my hands holding what were once
words on paper
pictures in my head
visions in my sleep
imagination as wild as ever,
and suddenly you're in front of me
surrounding me, before me, next to me;
everything unfolds smoothly, exquisitely, with you in my life

a hope: it shines outward, beaming its light, showing its face
a wish: it bursts upward, bearing its fruit, unveiling its skin
a dream: it sings, bright and loud, vibrant, like a watercolour painting

visions I once had now crystal clear and on the path before me.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

True Love


My heart hurts from the
heaviness of love that it
holds for you and for nothing else
you are the butterflies inside
the sweat on my skin when
you cross my mind
the daydreams at noon and
the gaze in my eyes as
I ponder the depths of your
beautiful mind
you glow like nothing but a
star in the sky as it bursts its light
you are the very same shine
as soothing as sand
as delicate as lace
there is no way to orchestrate
a symphony as flawlessly as
your hand fits in mine as we sit side by side
I'm in ruins from your smile
when our fingers intertwine and
the time we watched the sun rise
I can now accurately define
bliss and true love
for the very first time.


Friday, May 5, 2017

Thoughts on a Friday

Before me is my bedroom window, just above my desk. It's about eight o'clock and the sun is setting, although the sky is so pale with mist that you can't quite tell.

I have my window open and outside I hear small birds, cars passing by on the street below, leftover droplets of a day drenched with rain; the air is sparkling with tiny beads of water and the grass is far more luscious than you'd think.

I love this time of year. Each time I breathe in the spring air I swear I am healed. I stepped out into my backyard about an hour ago, the sky still falling, puddles left and right and the ground a miniature marshland. I stood there for a few moments, absolutely enjoying the rain.


These days I feel eager: so often I'm cooped up in my room working on projects tirelessly, moving forward, swirling to and from work, designing my days; all things I do I do with intention, mostly, and truly I do. I have a plan, or an outline, perhaps, for how I'd like things to unfold, but yet I am also just taking small steps each morning that I wake and mostly I'm just in a state of allowing what's to be and what has already been.

Allowing is a most beautiful state to be in. There is nothing more freeing than allowing: to me this is open arms, open eyes, most definitely an open heart, but more than anything it is accepting at the very same time. Being open to challenges, open to opportunities, accepting of hardships, accepting of accomplishments. The path of least resistance.

At the same time though, might I add, there is an element that is just as importance as sitting back and allowing, and that's doing, too. Getting up and making it happen. Whatever it is. That's what I've been so eager about lately, continuing to create for myself what it is that I feel I'm lacking around me. Never do we need to feel stuck or trapped in one way of living or doing or being, because we are the designers of our world, and this is as thrilling as can be. Even more thrilling is the idea of allowing the outcomes of things, a no-expectation way of living, you know?

Just some thoughts on a Friday.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Bird Therapy

Sunflower seeds and chickadees
soft rolling waves and a chilly breeze
the beaming sun and tall birch trees
I'll take another day like today, please.


Today was what I like to call a slow Sunday. After cucumber wine until the early hours the night before, I got up, washed my face, threw on my new sandy grey speckled knit, and drove home to the sounds of one of my favourite bands Needtobreathe. I swear I can never get enough of their songs.

After tidying my bedroom, sorting through paperwork, changing my fish bowl and watering my plants, I stepped outside for a mid-afternoon waterfront walk. It was so refreshing; the kind I've needed for a while. And I suppose it has been a while: winter is long, after all, and sunny days like today aren't easy to come by.

The air was cool but the sun was perfectly warm, and I fed some chickadees right from the palm of my hand. This, my friends, is something I must do more often. Like a bird therapy; a featherlight heartbeat lands on your hand, clasping its tiny claws onto your fingers, just for a moment, to snatch a sunflower seed or half a peanut.

Connecting to the world around us, the real, real world with real creatures and things that live alongside us, is so healing: trees, buds, sprouts, swans, all of it. It's therapy.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017


It's the middle of March, which means it's almost spring, although it's -10 and we just got another delivery of snow.

This winter has gone by so fast - really truly - faster I think than any other winter. I remember the past few winters were drawn-out and unending, depressingly so, but this time 'round I can hardly believe April is only a few moons away. I have much to look forward to the next few weeks: I've got a whole lot on the go right now and I can't wait to see how it all unfolds this year.


So, it's official. I have ceased to remove myself from my twirling mind; the to-and-fro that comes in waves, whispering one thing and then shouting the next, both entirely opposite pieces of advice.

I spoke to counsellors and psychologists in my late teens and early twenties, back when my anxiety was so overbearing that the world around me was as dark and hazy as anything you've ever seen; back when I couldn't seem to make a decision any better than I can now, in some ways, I suppose.

Thankfully, a handful of years later, I'm more confident in my steps than I've ever been, although there's a thing or two that always pulls me backward. I'm going to speak to another psychotherapist this Friday and I am so thrilled about it. Friday can't come soon enough, in fact. I'm nervous though, too, and mostly just hopeful that he'll be able to help me find clarity in all of the spaghetti of questions I have about life, love, moving on, and moving forward.

I'm the kind of person who needs to express how I feel by talking about stuff with people I trust. I am terrible at holding things in when something is bothering me, and this is why counselling is so helpful for me. I think everybody should invest in a few sessions with a therapist at least once in their life, during a time when they need answers, someone to bounce their thoughts off of, or to get another perspective.

For now I am writing down all of the things I am grateful for and I can't tell you why I haven't done it more often.

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Morning Light


Outside it's quiet and grey, my blinds still drawn, a cat at my feet, and I'm nestled under three layers: cotton, flannel, and a quilt. There are four pillows on my bed and my head rests somewhere between them.

I roll over once, maybe twice, and I peer at my fish across the room swirling gently 'round his bowl. I sit up. I reach across the bed to the window beside me, and I let the light in.

That's my most favourite part of the morning: letting the light in. There's something about morning light, something I don't have a word for.

I think for a moment; occasionally I will open my journal and write a few words, otherwise, I stand up and make my way down the old wooden staircase that creaks loudly. Another opportunity for morning light: the curtains above the kitchen sink are closed. I open them, and the trees in the backyard are awake, the birds are alive, and there are rabbits.

The icy breeze outside prompts me to turn the kettle on. A mug, a teabag, and a seat at the table while I plan my day ahead.


Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Twenty Six

Today is my 26th birthday.

I booked today off work, a snowy Tuesday that has turned into heavy, slushy rain; but I spent the entire day listening to a meditation playlist, drinking banana-coconut milk, baking grain-free birthday brownies, blushing over the amount of well wishes, and doing a little bit of reading.

This birthday is the very first birthday out of all of my birthdays where I feel a little bit of discomfort. Usually I am lively and ecstatic on my special day, and I love to celebrate, but this time around the sun I'm feeling a little out of sorts.

My birthday is very close to the holiday season, and my holidays this year were a little somber. I found myself unusually wishing for Christmas to hurry up and be over and for New Years to quickly pass. I am still just processing some big, big stuff, and I'm thankful it is 2017, because 2016 was full to the brim with the difficulty of ending a relationship and the rise of some digestive health issues.

I've been spending a lot of time the past little while working on myself and filling up my pockets with a bounty of positivity in the form of affirmations and things of the like. In fact, my bedroom is stocked with tiny little notes of reassuring and encouraging words to keep me from twirling downward into that scary dark hole of anxiety and horrible thoughts. I must say, I feel really great as a result; I wake each morning telling myself my life is unfolding perfectly, that I can handle anything that comes my way, and that I always know the answers.

Being alone is scary, but it's thrilling. Regardless of what's behind me and what's to come, I am happy, and I'm excited about the future. I trust myself, the path I've walked thus far, and the path that's before me - whatever stones and twigs and roses I find along the way.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Healing My Gut: What I Eat

I make a big batch of soup every two days or so, because if I haven't emphasized enough, I am undergoing a major digestive healing protocol. My soups almost always contain carrots and chicken thighs with the skin on and bone-in, that I let simmer alongside any variety of vegetables that floats my boat for that day: celery and leek, peas and turnip, broccoli and parsley. Right now I am still at the relatively early stages of a combination of the SCD, GAPS and AIP diets; diets that are designed to give your system a much needed break while supporting the healing of the intestinal lining to improve absorption, seal leaky gut, and reduce overgrowth of bad bacteria.


Since I developed post-infectious IBS and a number of food intolerances after my C. Diff infection in 2011, I've always made a note in my mind to try my best to avoid grains, legumes, refined sugar, and dairy, because I feel worse if I consume too much of those things. However, even as a nutritionist with the knowledge I have, it hasn't always been easy, or at least, I haven't always been strict enough about it. Not that I was eating unhealthily, I was just eating the wrong foods for me. It really wasn't until close to a month ago after dealing with 6 consecutive months of this flare-up, that I really knew I needed to make changes.

It's been about three weeks of following a very strict dietary regimen, but I must say, my symptoms have certainly improved. I am not yet where I'd like to be, but just knowing that my body is getting the break it needs and is less reactive, is extremely encouraging.


A typical day of eating for me right now includes a lot of simple soups, bone broths, roasted chicken, fish, squash and other vegetables; my newest muse of cauliflower "rice" stir fry with beef and vegetables; sweet peas for a snack, zucchini "noodles" and lots of water and herbal teas (namely ginger, peppermint, or fennel). It can get repetitive but I can't say I'm sick of it just yet, in fact, I really quite enjoy the simplicity and ease of it all. It's really all very easy to prepare and I'm enjoying eating so many fresh ingredients.

If it seems like I'm not eating anything besides meat and vegetables, that's entirely the case. I am not eating fruit, nuts, dairy, legumes, grains or even starchy vegetables like potato. Restrictive? Absolutely. Am I feeling better because of it? Yup.

Wednesday, September 21, 2016


I had a productive day today, but a restless day. One of those can't-sit-still afternoons with the energy of a sloth, yet the desire to get up and do something stimulating. I felt trapped in my body; I didn't want to move and I had an insatiable appetite. I did go to the gym first thing this morning, however, which at least gave me some shimmer of satisfaction, if only a little bit.

Mostly though I sat at my computer and worked away: I responded to emails, edited videos and blog posts and photographs and thumbnails and procrastinated some along the way, too. I also ate half a bag of carrot chips, which are darn good, but perhaps not exactly something I should be eating half a bag of right now, what with all the sunflower oil and such. I also had my delicious sesame noodle bowl and an equally delicious cauliflower-rice stir fry.

Tomorrow I've a few things on my agenda: hop to the store to stock up on more carrots (a vegetable that is my entire life right now), fresh ginger, and chicken thighs. Soup is a very important part of my days as of late.


I'm feeling increasingly content with what God, or the Universe, or something has planned for me. Maybe what I have planned for me, I still don't know. But I do know that I can wish and dream and take action and make things happen, like I do, but still there's a path that is paved and I'm walking gracefully along it, knowing it leads to the perfect place where all of my visions are in a basket of fruition, waiting for me to grasp it.

half of my heart's got a grip on the situation,
half of my heart takes time.

Sunday, September 18, 2016


I have to keep reminding myself that I am here, and not there; that it is today and not tomorrow, and that the stories I create are just that: a tale that my mind sings to itself on repeat, stirring a soup of emotions and fibs that do nothing but make my heart sticky and webbed and afraid.

I think I hate not knowing what the future holds, yet I can be so certain and so excited about the mystery of it all. Still, there is an unknown about it; a grey sheet that I can't see through. Thankfully it's up to us to decide what we want to imagine is beyond that sheet. Mostly I have pleasant thoughts; a vibrant imagination and my feet are eager. But I do suppose I am still just a girl with a mind as wild as any other, and I fear just as much as the next person.

Tomorrow I am going to do nothing but notice the sun, or perhaps the clouds before it; I will breathe in the autumn air that sweeps itself around me. I will chop leeks and dice cucumber as though it is the only thing that matters and I will remember that I am simply, simply, right here, right now.

Friday, September 16, 2016

Dew and Dawn

Oxford in the Fall, 2015.
It's the middle of September, and it's right about now that the air is just crisp enough to make any breeze feel holy and healing. I open my bedroom window first thing in the morning and I stand there breathing in the sweetness of dew and dawn.

Fall to me is the very beginning, or at least, makes me feel like the perfect time to begin. Spring is much the same, but nothing compares to the fiery leaves and crumpled blooms that once had a story. Mornings are especially divine but impossible to describe with words.

If I was, though, to choose a word to describe how fall mornings make me feel, I would say euphoric. Dreamy, perhaps, and inspired. So inspired that it's electric; invigorating and quenches my thirsty soul.

Thursday, September 15, 2016



One foot in front of the other;
there's isn't such thing as turning back
it's grey and it's hard to see if you turn your head 'round;
even if you squint, the details are blurry and you can't make out much
and even if you could see it, crystal clear,
like it was right before you, or in your hands,
or wrapped around your waist
or sitting across from you like things do
it wouldn't matter much
because the very things that once were
no longer are;
they've drifted
and the memories are nothing but
limp, boneless fragments
of thoughts and feelings past


Monday, September 5, 2016

Healing: An Update

a walk through Evergreen Brickworks

So perhaps I haven't quite fulfilled my own challenge I set out for myself: to write on here each day for one month. That's okay, though, some days are simply what they are, and for me, they're either this or they're that.

Most recently they are abundant with healing. Overflowing, boiling over, like a pot of potatoes.

Right now, my priority is to heal. Body, heart, and mind. Quite literally, though, I've been dealing with a distressing amount of physical imbalances over the past six months in the way of a terrible bout of, or what they call flare up, of irritable bowel syndrome. Which, in and of itself, is highly frustrating, confusing, and terrifying to say the least. Mostly because although post-infectious IBS is something I've been faced with since my horrific case of clostridium difficile gastroenteritis four years ago, I've not once experienced a flare up quite like this, for quite this long, and without hardly any solutions. My only solace is either refraining from consuming any food at all, or excluding a wide number of food items including all grains, all dairy, all legumes, and all complex carbohydrates. Which perhaps sounds daunting to some, but to be honest, I'm quite enjoying this process of nourishing my body and healing the lining of my gastrointestinal tract. Which is more or less damaged, irritated, and inflamed, no doubt. More on all this later, however, because it's truly a lengthy story.

My heart is a whole other realm of healing as well. After a very deeply painful break up, I'm on my own doing wonderful things, feeling good and feeling well, but still my heart is sewing itself up, day by day, thread by thread. I'm always stronger each time the moon rises, and I know I've not much further to go before my heart is a perfect slate, soft and silky, open and willing and ready for what it's handed. Truthfully though, I'm in no place to give my heart to anybody, but I do know the Universe will lead me right where I need to be.

As for my mind, aren't we all in need of healing the stories we create? The fears we have, if only from time to time? I am confident in where I'm at in my life; I'm happy, I'm at peace; I have plans and dreams and good, good things are around me. But I still fear, and I still worry. The best thing about it though is that I'm becoming quite the maven at really looking at those fears, seeing them for what they are, feeling the sometimes immense discomfort associated with them, and then letting them go.

My life is sweet and I'm grateful for that, and that is all I can do right now.



The air is sweet
and the sun is warm
green leaves
peach blooms
and branches adorned

There's a warmth sweeping softly
through the breeze
and the only things around me are
birdsongs and trees

A look to the left
the sun sets in the sky
above me is amber
as leaves start to die

The sky is pale blue
the clouds grey and cream
how happy I am
this isn't a dream.


Friday, August 26, 2016

Full and Sweet

I could tell you where I've been, and I could tell you where I now am. I can't say I know what's to come, but I do know it's good. It's full, and it's sweet.

I was taken by surprise for the second time in a row this week where I've been presented with a most dazzling opportunity. I can't help but feel so grateful that I chose the path I'm on: to live a passionate, ambitious life, regardless of whether or not others around me thought anything would come of it. I've not once let go of the vision I have for myself. I am looking right at it, face on, because many of the dreams I've dreamed are no longer dreams, but tangible real-life things that are now part of my story. I've a pocket full of many more dreams, and I am eagerly awaiting how they, too, will transpire.

Each day my life continues to turn and twist and shape into something so refreshingly what I need. I can't help but think about the unbearably tough decisions I have had to make, but also how if it weren't for those decisions that my very soul cried out for, I wouldn't be where I am now. Oh, to listen to our hearts.

Why is it that fear so often dictates our every move? Why is it that the truth of things struggle to be the forefront in our lives, and instead, remain under a pile of doubt, like laundry that we just don't want to do? Even when our heart is screaming and shouting and banging on doors, with crystal clear certainty, we still back away. We step down, we give in, and fear rises to the top only to place our very soul's most precious messages back inside of a dark box.

I'm happy I have risen above much of the fear I had in my life. Instead, I've forced myself to keep journeying through it, past it, beyond it, into what appears to now be a very bright world with hardly much of anything standing in my way.

How It Will

I have a lot of projects and deadlines these days. It's keeping me busy, though, and I quite like it. It feels like all my dedication is paying off, and that I'm really moving forward.

Today I ate too much paleo vanilla blueberry cake, and the teriyaki sauce I made for dinner was maybe too salty and too sweet and too explosively flavourful for my tastebuds. I also thought about God, or the universe, and how right now it's telling me to take it easy. I can't help but repeat to myself that it'll all play out how it should, how it's supposed to, how it simply will.

Tomorrow I'm going to film some more things and on Saturday I'm visiting with good friends in the city.

I can't wait to move there.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Life Things + A Challenge

a late august backyard bloom.
My life hasn't exactly been easy this year. One of my favourite ways to cope and work through the hard stuff is by writing, so I'm challenging myself to blog every day for the next month. Sometimes I struggle to write if I don't have anything in particular to express, but because my mind is as scrambled as eggs these days, I want to just... write. Anything and everything that my days consist of. Regardless of my posts being bland or not.

This morning, much like yesterday morning, I woke up half an hour before I needed to leave for work. Luckily I work a stones throw away, so I just slipped on stretchy leggings and a striped cotton three-quarter sleeve, made a slightly too-decadent strawberry smoothie with full fat coconut milk, and left.

My drive to work involves a very specific, though-out route: I make a left, a right, a left, a right again; I wait at the lights for an irritatingly long stretch of time, every time; zip down the bus lane and I am there. The most notable part of my drive to work is my intentional avoidance of my ex's house, however.

Work has been busy lately indeed, but the days are fuller and more interesting as a result, and I feel smarter; purposeful.

For dinner I made salmon and zucchini pasta with pesto. Moments after I took my first bite, I received terrible, if not highly frustrating news that if I am faced with only once more, I am going to break and/or punch everything in my general vicinity. This actually did end up happening a small while later when I slammed my bedroom door so hard that a picture fell off the wall and shattered. I sobbed while I listened to my mother quietly sweep up the glass.

She later popped her head in my room to update me on my cousin's two-centimetre cervical dilation. A new baby is on the way.

The frustration and the hurt I've been carrying the past few months is all a very long story, and one that is the core, the root, the guts of my darkness as of late. But all is well, and all will be well.

This too shall pass. An encouraging reminder.

If there's one thing I know right now, it's that I'm craving a getaway. If only to the forest; to a swamp, a river, a pond.

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Rise Again

Heaviness is only temporary
the daylight will soon break in.

It's cloudy today. I woke up to pouring rain outside my window and a cat perched on my hip.

It's been just about four months since I've been on my own, and I'm stronger than I've ever been. Still there's a spoonful or two of ache in my heart, and he crosses my mind, but lately, I've been thinking about how incredibly content I feel beneath it all. How grounded and confident I am with where I'm at. I am loving my life.

I was reading through some of my notes from a few years ago on how painfully anxious I was. Timid, afraid, worried, insecure, uncertain. I can't quite pinpoint when or where I blossomed into who I am and what I feel today, right now, these days. At what point did I begin to shrug off the fears and let go of the mind-made stories? Somewhere, I suppose.

My life has been particularly enjoyable knowing that I have been creating a life for myself that I truly wanted; that I've written about and hoped for. Many of my dreams are painting themselves to life, and there are fleeting moments where I feel a surge of clarity, and excitement. It's lots of fun.

Good things have come into my life since I left it all behind. Good things. Solid things. Happiness I can touch and feel, a wholesomeness I've longed for. Even amidst the harder days, the darker days, or the moments where my strength is really being tested, I look up and I get this overwhelming reassurance that everything I have done in my life up until now is leading me exactly where I need to go, exactly where I need to be. And right now, on my own, is just that.

I've developed this attitude where each time I feel guilt or pain, I know that the discomfort only gets easier the more I allow it in. The more I refuse to cave in to the temptation of slipping backwards to some place comfortable and the more I keep stepping forward, the more I grow stronger. It's literally like working your muscles at the gym, except it's your heart and your head. You push yourself toward your goal or what you know is right; there is pain, it is sore, but it eases somehow, and you get better.

Oh, I know,
I'm gonna rise again
Set my sights on where I'm going
and my goodbye's are where I've been.

Friday, May 27, 2016



The earth is alive
all around there is singing
the voices of chickadees
a robin
a stream of water

The glowing silhouette of tiny insects
flutter before the setting sun
they all have a place to be
I wonder where they go
I wonder what they do
I wonder what they see.

The orange sun falls lower in the sky;
and just above the fence it greets me
a good evening
a good night
It's bright and satiating and
fills my thirsty body with light

I breathe in
the world around me smells so green;
the grass is dewy
the ground is soft
and beneath the lilac tree
somehow I'm home.