The World Shifted

When you start doing things that move you in the right direction on you life-journey, the world tosses you a bone now and then to keep you motivated. It can be hard going sometimes and one needs some encouragement once in a while whether it is from a good friend, business advisor or a bit of cosmic magic.

My husband has control over our finances. Rightfully so because he has such a green thumb with it. He grows it and I harvest it.

It irritates me that I have to ask him for money though. He is fairly generous with it in terms of shuffling it over but still I find it hard to ask someone for money. It is a very humbling experience. I have to force my ego to bow every time.

It hit me a couple of months ago that I have used up half of my RSPs to cope with not asking him for money. I realized that my RSPs are a bandaid, a crutch for me to fall on. I needed to stop escaping from a larger issue and deal with it.

My strategy is to continue to make myself vulnerable and kneel to Craig for money. I have a lesson to learn and I best pay attention. However, I do not intend to bow forever.

In addition to making myself talk to Craig more about money expenses I also started looking for work to bring in money for myself. This proved futile and only lasted a few weeks. I can not go back to the 9-5 world.

So I begin to design a workshop for memoir writing. I have been sitting on this idea for 18 months. I get my act together and design my curriculum and begin marketing it.

Everything falls into place easily. It is reassuring when everything is easy. I received positive attitudes while I was in my local communities and chatting with people. Craig and I are going along pretty smoothly except for me not discovering a lesson.

I have been practicing my new money strategy for two months. I am about to crack and take money out of my RSPs because I need gas money and I am exhausted from all the bowing I have been doing. I need a reprieve. Something tells me to check my account balance before I withdraw from my savings. I do and I am ecstatically surprised! I have an extra two thousand dollars in my account.

Is this a gift from the universe to keep me moving? A little bone or treat to keep me motivated. I feel as though the universe is saying “Good job Marlene. Don’t give up now. Keep moving forward.”


A Bit of Sunlight

“I had no idea that the sun in PEI could fill me with so much grace. Even just thinking this way, that the sun in PEI could fill me with so much grace, is an unusual thought for me. I was filled with light, life and joy and as we fly home it is fading just as the humidity is leaving Teela’s hair and turning her healthy flowing curls into straight frizzy hair. I feel empty.

“All I can think about is how I had been truly living the last two weeks and didn’t notice until now. I got caught up in the passion of life and wasn’t even aware of what gift I was receiving so I couldn’t recognize what I was leaving behind as I boarded the plane in Charlottetown to come home.

“Now that I am home I feel strange. Not happy. Not that feeling not happy is anything new but this is worse. I am detached and disengaged like never before. Is this what everyone feels like after an amazing holiday in a world different from their own?

“Teela is home and I am struggling to do anything. I am struggling to be alone and that is all I want to do. I can not even think. It is like she notices that my attention is not completely focused on her and she cries out for me. I am struggling to take care of her. I am struggling to take care of me. It is all the effort I have just to feed her. I just want to be alone. I want the sun.

“While Teela’s presence creates a distraction for me I am also feeling at a loss because I can’t do anything. It is gloriously hot. The sun is shinning so brightly and we can’t be outside too long during the day because there is nowhere to cool down. We hide in the basement. The damp, cool basement. Yesterday I was on a beach smelling the ocean air, covered in red sand, listening to the waves crash the shore. I was with my sister. We were laughing. I was buying ice-cream and shopping at boardwalks. Everyday for the last two weeks I was in the sun. How can I actually be here, in a damp basement surrounded by dark brown seventies decor? I went from light to darkness in a day.”

A Bit of Sunlight

“At home I felt like a used cat toy that was ripped apart but expected to keep giving. I was not valued. I was not consulted on many decisions. I couldn’t even boil water at the right temperature without being told I was doing it wrong. I doubted many of my decision that I did make. I had to ask for validation for many things, “Could I go to the bathroom now or would it be better to wait until Teela was distracted?”

My home life was the complete opposite of my work life. There was no team work, no support, no appreciation. I had to do everything while all of them got to sit at the computer and/or watch TV. Did no one even notice I was evaporating?

Despite being respected at work and feeling ripped apart and broken at home I knew the answers for my anxiousness and disrupted self were at home. I wanted to take the time to make sense of my home life and find a balance. I would never find the answers to my problems in a place that wasn’t right for me. Home was where I wanted to be despite it sucking the life out of me.”

The “place that wasn’t right for me” was my job as an academic coordinator.  I loved my job but I felt like a fraud.  I was always pretending to be something that I wasn’t.  While I held this position, and the positions that led to this position, I felt I was watching me wobble around in high heal shoes.  Finally I fell from those heals.  What a relief my disguise is over.

Have any of you ever felt as though you were in a job or place that wasn’t quite right for you?


My husband and I are discussing homeschooling. I try never to call it unschooling cause that really stresses him out. He is a very traditional man and the whole concept of unschooling let a lone the word goes against his very being.  Today’s conversation is about him wanting me to ensure Emily make goals. Not only does he feel it is a great lesson for people to learn it also will help me keep track of what she is doing.

I agree with the idea of goals but I also feel more credit needs to be given to Emily. She is very ambitious with her art and has many goals for herself. But it isn’t laid out in a grade sheet or a way for my husband logical mind to measure. As usual I find myself getting anxious and pulled into some argument with him. I am getting angry at him because he is so ridged. When he says the word ‘goals’ I feel like cement is being poured on me and I am weighed down. So I take a few deep breaths and turn inwards to investigate what triggered this.

How do you deal with being hooked?

I recall reading something from Pema Chodron regarding being hooked. She refers to it as shenpa in Buddhist philosophy. She says that shenpa can show up in the force behind the words. I realize that is what is happening here. Craig is pulling me into an argument whether he is doing it intentionally or not.  Craig says ‘goals’ with a cold and ridged force. I say ‘goals’ like something light and airy, a personal ambition to hold one accountable. More of a force like the wind.  It is an energy and it comes from within.

With this realization, all in just taking a moment to reflect, breath and look inwards, I was able to continue talking to him about the subject. Recognizing that we had different shenpa behind our words even though we had a similar definition. It was our intention that differed. I can deal with that. The end result will be productivity despite his wanting a heavy hand on the situation.


I feel as though my ambition to write has lost me.  It is 5:30 in the morning.  I am finally able to take some time for my craft and I have nothing to say.  I am blank.  Like too many marbles stuffed in a bag, now I have to wiggle to get even one out.

Maybe I am putting too much pressure on myself.  I wake myself up several times in the night hoping that it will be 5:30, my wake up time.  Only it isn’t.  It is earlier.  I don’t want to be exhausted so I fall back asleep.  I wake up  so many times that by the time my meditation bowl chime goes off at 5:30 I sleep right through it. I am so desperate for some time to write that I am defeating myself in the process.

Now I sit here with plenty of time after a week or more of struggling to find it and I have nothing to say.  I wonder how bloggers find time to blog on a regular basis?  A commitment to a schedule I presume.  A commitment they don’t let even their family intrude on.  My issue is to say “No.”  It is such a small word yet the energy it takes to say it seems to be surmountable. I am sucked into my family’s expectations or are they my expectations?

Now that I have written about not being able to write I feel as though I may have wiggled one marble out of the bag.  Perhaps other ideas will come easier now.  One marble at a time and then the ideas will flow easily.  They will pour out freely and uninhibited.