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Untitled – March 12, 1993

A long time ago

something drew me to you

I’m not quite sure what it was

but I knew it was there

I had fallen for you

then you fell for me

I thought it woud last

but it ended abruptly

now it has started again

I hope that it never ends

something about you

I just can’t seem to let go

I hope that things

can be like they were

a long time ago

when something drew me to you

I was not sure what it was

but I knew it was there

I have fallen for you

but will you fall for me?

Once again like you did before,

a long time ago.

What Was Once Lost……

In a recent deep clean of our basement, I stumbled across a bin that had not seen the light of day in years. One of the items I uncovered was a duotang of old poetry I had written in the early 90’s. Reading some of these poems has been nostalgic to say the least.

To pay homage to my discovery; I will start posting some of these poems on my blog to share with you the writings of a much younger me. Enjoy:)

-Lunapentopaper

Reclaiming Me

I recall meeting with friends for brunch last year. It was so lovely to catch up in person after the COVID hiatus. Following flowing conversation, laughter and full bellies, we posed for a photo. This photo post brunch was reminiscent of our last brunch outing (many moons earlier). Later that day, back at home, I viewed the photo on my phone and looked at myself in disbelief, who is that person? I pulled up our earlier photo from many moons ago as a comparison, I could barely recognize myself….

Time had been cruel, or had I been cruel to myself?

Sure working from home the majority of the last three years did not help, but I felt lost in who I was. I became focused on each day ahead, instead of the present moment. I wanted more than anything to make the ridiculousness of COVID leave as little of an impact on my family as possible, especially our kids. In all of my focus on this task, I lost focus on myself. My regular exercising dwindled and my eating habits… were less than impressionable.

I knew I had to step up to make change and for a long time, this step eluded me. I wished for overnight changes, like rubbing a genie bottle and wishing for the health of my youth at the snap of a finger. Finally, I realized all this time I had been focusing on my children, they were the best reason to take this step… If my children see me striving to be better, striving to eat healthier and being more active, this behaviour is more likely to leave a lasting impression on them.

Gradually, I have started eating better, exercising more and being more conscious about what I am putting in my body. I have taken to running again, even occasionally with my daughter! I am still a big believer in balance, which is to say I haven’t drastically cut things out of my diet as I know this would make me miserable (ahem chocolate). I have found a happy medium and now, when I look at myself in the mirror, I see me again.

Speak Up

Looking back there are times in my life where I wish I had spoken up. Times where, perhaps if I had, things would have ended differently. Fear, embarrassment, and the unknown kept me silenced. Acknowledging now, all the times I wish I had said something. Only now, feeling the voice within to empower me.

Now, as a mother, with children of my own, my strongest instinct is to protect them. To ensure that if they were ever to encounter such an event or issue, they would speak freely and openly about any injustice. And to know how to control their own story.

Events do not need to be physical to leave a lasting scar. For me it was the culmination of emotional trauma from several separate incidents that have lingered with me to this day. One such incident involved repeated unwanted sexual derogation in a work place that ultimately led me to leave a job I otherwise loved. The constant fear of speaking up, because the instigator owned and operated the business I worked for. The trickle down effect of his behaviour in front of coworkers only made matters worse, they then felt that his behaviour was acceptable. The final straw for me, was being dangled a carrot for an opportunity that seemed so surreal, only to find out that there was an underlying caveat of exploiting me in a manner that made me beyond uncomfortable. This ultimately led me to leave.

Similarly, an earlier incident in my youth in which I wish I had spoke up, involved abuse of power through intimidation with extremely strong sexual undertones. This incident left me shuddered for years because it occurred in a place where I should have felt safe. I could not speak of this event to my parents for over twenty years because of how embarrassed it made me feel, compounded by the fact that my father knew the individual who made me feel this way.

These are only a couple of examples of a multitude of incidents experienced in my younger life. Sadly, I am certain many can relate.

The What If

What would have happened had I spoken up? Would the inappropriate harassment end? Would it be worse? Now my mindset has shifted and I believe had I said something it could have stopped future incidents from happening to someone else. The big picture, if these individuals felt so freely to treat me the way they did with no backlash, no one to tell them that their behaviour was wrong, it is highly probable that their actions would continue and could effect others. I do regret my silence now.

The Why

I have four children, I want them to speak up. I want them to feel comfortable in their own skin and to understand should they ever find themselves out of their comfort zone they can use their voices, and speak up. I want them to feel in control of their being and of their own narrative. They should never cower to the unhinged power of another.

Speak up and take control, this is your life.

-Lunapentopaper

Tree of Life

There are times we yearn to forget, and times we must learn from, and on occasion they are inextricably intertwined. I have faced a gut wrenching reality, one that shook me to my core. Mustering up the courage to pick myself up off the proverbial floor, I found dignity and strength in my roots and encouragement from my family. To honour my strength and my learning, I gifted myself a reminder with a beautiful Celtic Dara Tree Tattoo on my back.

Crann Bethadh, in Celtic, also known to many as the The Tree of Life. A giant oak tree, woven intricately, highlighting its connection to its roots, the earth while also reaching to the sun, the embodiment of the circle of life. Celts built their settlements around a strong and sturdy oak tree. The settlers saw this tree as the soul of their tribe, and spent their days revelling in what the tree brought to them. The tree created life, it fed, gave shelter and its roots were anchoring.

My Crann Bethadh is grounded by incredible roots. These roots consist of my babes, my husband, my family and most importantly me. In dara form, my ink has a more circular pattern that amplifies the circle of life. Each knot twisting around the other reaching outward and inward and both to the sun and the earth. The knot pattern emphasizing, harmony and balance.

My tattoo, my beautiful Tree of Life, signifies for me that within us we all have roots, that we should honour. These roots, be it our family, our heritage, our own being, give us strength when we need them. I found inner strength by reaching into my roots, strength I never knew I had. These roots are always there, they keep us grounded. Sometimes we just need a reminder to look within, for what it is that we seek.

It also exemplifies the need to reach for more, to the sky. Our being must find harmony in both understanding what grounds us and what makes us whole. But also the need for continued learning and an open mind. Ultimately reaching for the sky while remaining cognizant of who you are.

I hope in longevity, my tree of life resonates with my babes. And when I am only but a memory, I hope my teachings leave a lasting impression on them. And when they look back they understand where to find strength within their roots. I hope they are always grounded and aware of who they are. That they reach beyond what is conceivable and find balance in their thirst for greater knowledge.

Longevity, wisdom and strength, my tree of life.

Cathartic Release

Do you ever have one of those days, where you just want to hit the pause button? To have the chance to sit back and embrace all that you have and all that you are? How do you focus?

So many days are filled with self doubt, uncertainty and unnecessary distractions. Truly finding the time to focus on the good, can sometimes seem a fleeting task. I remind myself that even within our darkest moments we can unearth our truth, our purpose and our strength. How we choose to embrace and utilize our discovered truth is what defines our next step, be it forwards, backwards or frozen in time.

Everyone has a story, everyone has or is going through something that has rocked them to their core. How do we all cope? What is it that pushes the human spirit forward, to march forth with determination? Is it love? Is it hope for a brighter tomorrow?

Somewhere ingrained in all of us is a survival instinct that drives us with carnal inclination to endure. Endure the worst days, endure the sad, endure a loss, because we all believe there is more and there are better days ahead. It is in those moments that our spirit grows.

When I hit my lowest and darkest moment, the world around me as I knew it, had crumbled and I found myself and my two wee babes in another country isolated from everything familiar. My parents dove in without question to take us in their arms and bring us home. Their unwavering love allowed us time to reset and heal. In my darkest hours I revelled in my babes. I poured myself into being the best mom I could be. I endured because of love.

For me, now when I find myself in a place of uncertainty, when my mind is quite nebulous, when in doubt, putting pen to paper has calmed me. Love, my enduring determination. Each thought its own volume in a series that is my life. To share these words, is uplifting and writing them sets me free, allowing me to find order in my thoughts and quieting my busy mind. A cathartic release.

Grief Never Dies

For anyone who has suffered the loss of a loved one, they know this all too well, your grief for that special someone never ever goes away.

I can still recall so clearly the day my family received the call that my Grandma had passed. I was 15. My Mom came into my room early one morning and plugged her blow dryer in beside my bed and started to dry her hair. I rose up quickly knowing something was very wrong. My Mom’s face held the sad truth behind her weary red eyes. She explained to me that Grandma had suffered a heart attack and that we had to go to Grandma and Grandad’s house right away. I recall getting ready hastily, throwing on my Lenny Kravitz t-shirt and some jeans. Not really grasping the gravity of what had just happened.

We arrived a short time later to walk in on my Grandma being zipped up into a body bag. I recall being confused, perhaps when my Mom told me she had suffered a heart attack, in my mind, it was not final. She would be taken to the hospital and everything would be okay in the end. Or perhaps, it was because this was my first real experience with the loss of a loved one and my mind was having difficulty comprehending the finality of it all.

My Grandad sat quietly in the kitchen, tears running down his cheeks. I recall him saying quietly to my Dad, “I always thought I would be the first to go, not Mom”. My Aunt, who had a strong emotional bond with my Grandma, was downstairs sitting on the back porch by herself, sobbing. I quietly went outside and sat with her. Trying to console her, with my words and hugs. Hoping that showing her how much I loved her might help, even if just a little.

I knew life would never be the same for my Aunt after that point. I think of all of my family during that time, and how my Grandma’s death hit my Aunt the hardest. I don’t believe it was because she was weak, not even for a moment. I believe she never really felt whole again after the loss of her Mom. My Dad had us, my Mom and my brother and I, distractions and daily reminders that he was not alone. My Aunt was literally alone, she had no one to go home to, to comfort her at the end of the day, or to distract her. In retrospect, my Aunt’s grief morphed into a new form, when she made it her mission to take care of my Grandad. My Aunt spent her days fretting over my Grandad and did this for many years until his passing.

My Aunt never really was herself following my Grandma’s death. The grief carried a heavy burden on her. She lost her zest for her own life and focused on taking care of everyone but herself to pass her time.

Grief is a fitful thing, that holds you to your very core. The pieces of our loved ones that we hold in our hearts and memories are always there. Sometimes the memory of them is so vivid that their loss hits you again, as though fresh and for the first time. The pain never really goes away, it subsides from time to time, some of the periods of time between painful memories are longer than others, but the grief never dies.

After my Aunt passed, I read a quote at her memorial, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened. – Dr. Seuss. To this day, I hold that quote in my memory for days when I need that reminder, and there are many days that I do.

Feel the Music

From a young age music has always been an outlet, a source of expression but above all else a way to escape.

As a child my parents played their music on records and 8-tracks. We had this amazing stereo system that played 8-tracks, records and the radio all built in as one unit. It was furnished with a wood panelled roller lid that hid everything when not in use. It was quite the show piece. The records were stored in a leather bound footrest with a flip top lid, hidden away and filled with treasures. I was lucky enough to have a few of my own stashed away in this secret little footrest. While not as cool as my parents records, I recall having Anne Murray’s, There’s a Hippo in my Bathtub and Sesame Streets, Sesame Street Fever.

As I grew, my passion for music never waned, eventually getting my very own ghetto blaster to play tapes on, I would spend hours listening contently in my room. The music taking you to a place of freedom and expression. Getting lost in my tapes, a regular past time, at the time my collection ranged to include Janet Jackson, Michael Jackson, Dream Warriors, Madonna, Paula Abdul, The Cure, Bon Jovi, The Pointer Sisters, George Michael, C+C Music Factory, En Vogue, and eventually included Pearl Jam. The list of tapes could go on, but these are the ones that are top of mind years later.

As I entered my high school years, my music horizons broadened, being exposed to new types of music, new groups, going to garage band rehearsals, concerts, and clubs. My first concert ever, and so memorable to this day, Prince. I saw Prince perform with one of my best childhood friends (and friend to this day) with her older sister as our chaperone. I recall watching him race around on stage and entertain us, both visually and lyrically with his musical genius. I remember at one point watching him stumble ever so slightly with his platform shoes, but he never missed a beat, and most I’m sure didn’t even notice because his beautiful words carried on.

My older brother, has introduced me to so many new music genres, and bands I may have never had the luxury of being introduced to, had it not been for his exquisite taste in music and his patience for his little sister wanting so much to be as cool as he was in her eyes. He helped me embrace the eclectic taste in music that I still enjoy today. I recall him taking me to see Femi Kuti live at the Phoenix Concert Theatre in Toronto. What an experience! Opening my eyes and ears to the melodious sound of Femi Kuti, experiencing the rhythm of the Afro-beats, I recall quickly thereafter adding his album Shoki Shoki to my collection. His songs full of passion and literal purpose, linger with me to this day.

It has been some time since my last concert, Coldplay at the Rogers Centre in Toronto in August 2017 for their A Head Full of Dreams tour. I attended with my now hubby, my best friend and her man. It was a great concert for getting lost in camaraderie and sing along. I look forward to my next concert, whenever or whoever it may be, it will be long overdue. Perhaps now is a good time to start researching and planning my next concert experience.

To list a few of my more memorable concerts, I would have to briefly include Lenny Kravitz (with Blind Melon opening), Pearl Jam, D’Angelo (private Sony HQ concert), Joe (private Sony HQ concert), Incubus, UB40, and the Toronto leg of the Up in Smoke Tour. Listing these past concert experiences makes me miss the adventure of live music immensely.

When not attending at a concert, I try to play music every chance I get. The music genre varies depending on what I am doing or what mood I need to set. When writing, I always have my ear phones in and music blasting, the sounds and rhythms make the words flow more fluidly from my fingertips. When cooking or baking, our kitchen speaker is always playing something to get me lost in the moment. When working from home, my phone is always playing something soothing to keep me focused and lower my stress. When I am running or riding, music plays in my ears to keep me energized. When my kids want to dance, we crank the tunes and move the kitchen table out of the way so there are no obstacles to impede our movement or expression. Music is a way to unwind, a way to feel and a way to express.

How do you Feel the Music?

Compromise

A long time ago, a wise woman once told me “never, ever compromise yourself”. The context within which it was given to me was, at least I thought it was at the time, meant to imply don’t compromise yourself for a relationship. When this special woman told me these words, I had just gone through the end of a relationship. In my mind I applied it immediately to the current state I was in and perhaps how I had gotten there. Perhaps I had let myself get lost, in the thrills of a relationship and in so doing, letting the other take advantage of my generosity and my naivety.

These words, lingered with me and I held them tight, perchance too tightly and under the wrong context. Misguided by my own interpretation, and for worry of another chance at my heart being broken, I created a wall around myself for fear of letting my guard down, and compromising myself for another. By creating this wall, as you could imagine, it makes it difficult for others to be truly close to you. Not only does it pose complications in building relationships but it leads to a lonely road.

It wasn’t until someone said to me I wouldn’t find happiness in a relationship until I first found my own sparkle, that I sat back and realized, I had in fact, lost my sparkle. I had been so consumed with protecting myself and thinking I was strong, that I lost focus on what made me who I am and what made me happy. Slowly, I circled back to that wise woman’s words, “never, ever compromise yourself”. It dawned on me, I was responsible for my happiness, by building a fortress around myself, I was taking away any chance I had of this realization.

Slowly, I started taking steps, baby steps at first, re-introducing me, to myself. Awakening my passions buried deep within. Some were as simple as me starting to write again with purpose, playing music loudly and dancing in my kitchen while cooking, working out and running regularly, reaching out to long lost friends and ultimately reconnecting with my former self. Smiling at the end of the day because I had done something that I could feel in my soul. That saying “feed your soul” resonates with me now. Days turned into months and gradually, over a long period of time, I felt more at peace with myself and remembered who I was. I became comfortable in my skin again, and found my sparkle. I continue now to try and remember everyday to do something just for me, even if it is as simple as stopping to smell the flowers, having a quiet coffee to myself with time for reflection or my favourite, throwing in my headphones and cranking up my music while I write.

Each day forward is a way to better yourself, be yourself and share that wonderful self with others. I will always be the shy one, but I will always remember to be me, my whole self and never, ever compromise myself again. (Thanks Aunt Simone). xx

Silver Linings

I have to admit, I am one of those people that tries to find the good in every situation. A positive spin to a not so bright day, or a shiny new outlook on a downtrodden path, you name it, my middle name should have been Hope.

So many times this past year and a half, I have, as I am sure have many others, thought about how our worlds have changed, or when would we be back to “normal” again? When everything shut down in March 2020, I was fortunate to be in a position where I could work from home. This allowed me to be present every day, all day for my children. While I worked, I enjoyed the light buzz around the house that they made. There was no waiting for me to get home from my commute, we enjoyed breakfast, lunch and dinner together every day this past year and half. We created a routine and I tasked them with daily things to complete before they could play any video games or watch any television. They have been so amazing and well behaved during this time and they understood without question the need for Momma to have quiet during the day.

I will miss the little notes they would slip under my office door, either a drawing of them and I, or a little message to tell me how much they loved me. I have quite the collection now, and I hope to display them all on my office wall as a daily reminder of how lucky I truly am.

While online schooling was not the greatest, again, we managed. Trust me there were days where I wondered how I would make it through to the next successfully, or if I was helping the kids as much as I could when they ran into schooling or device issues. All the while I was juggling the fast pace and intense workload of my job. Some days it was extremely draining to say the least. We made it work as best we could and I think we all got a little more computer literate along the way. I look back at this time now and am proud of myself at how well we actually managed, all things considered. The kids have been extremely resilient and all deserve a special treat for their efforts and positive attitudes.

The kids missed their in class schooling, their friends and the whole school experience, and when September 7th rolled around, they were giddy to return. On the first day back, they were at the door with backpacks on 30 minutes before they had to leave! I only hope they are always this eager to learn!

While our two youngest revelled in going back, they were sweet about missing their time with me during the day. Asking if I would be home when they got back at the end of the day, wanting to make sure I would still be there. I assured them that “Momma, will always be here when you need her”. It was bittersweet their first day back, but I am so happy for them. While I may have made a good substitute/assistant teacher during this past year and half, I’ll leave it in the professionals hands now!

Time has flown by so quickly, and while so much negativity has flown around over the events since March 2020, in my heart I will always look back and remember how much I got to be present with my babes. This is time that I may not under “normal” circumstances have had with them.