Return To Sender

Having only left there less than a year prior, it was my intention to celebrate my 50th birthday elsewhere. Bermuda was my choice but my daughter, who had invited herself and my granddaughter along for the trip, really wanted us to go to our island home of Jamaica.

We migrated to Canada now almost 14 years ago, however, my heart remained in Jamaica for the longest while.

My past was there and during my five months stay I had hoped to retrieve it.

Much like a time traveller, somewhere in my mind there was the notion that I could go back and fix things, undo others and change the course of even more. My stay on the island from November 2013 to April 2014 was a dismay as I was unable to do any of that. My past was gone.  

There was only empty spaces, places and lots of memories to greet me.

Retreating to my hostess's home after one desperate trip to catch even a glimpse of the back of my past, wanting to just shake a fist at it for its cruelty to me, it dawned on me around 3:00 a.m. that it was time to return to Canada.

Time to go to Me.

Until then, my life had never truly been about me. First, it was centred on my mother and her needs, demands and expectations that I had to fulfill. All the empty spaces of her past were tunnels that my life was designated to close.

My daughter was third in line, after the "love of my life." Sixteen years it would be before I would turn my attention fully towards my baby. No, she was not neglected, far from it. Every cent that I earned went to her keep, education and entertainment. Well, every cent that my mother did not get. After the breakup and my breakdown along with it, my eyes zoomed in on my daughter. Side-ward glances to short lived distractions including another marriage but even that was for the benefit of my baby girl.

Suffocated by me ever presence and intrusion in her life, my daughter and I were estranged for many months. It was only then that the journey to me began in somewhat of an earnest.

This trip led me along a lonely, tiring, soul deadening, possession-losing, close to homelessness path. It was during this period that my determination to return to my past, bittersweet as it was, heightened. I scrounged and saved every penny possible and bought a one way ticket for home.

Five months later I realised that I had returned home but had not unpacked.

Now April 2015 and  I am physically back in my Canadian home of Edmonton, Alberta. It is where my daughter and my precious granddaughter reside. In just over a week, I would have been back one year. In that time, my return has brought me full circle to where it all began 50 years ago.

To Me.

Happy with my visit to my past, I am not returning. Grateful for all that I have learned along the way, the rest of my life is and will continue to be the best of my life. I have everything: Love, peace and an ever flowing stream of abundance.  I no longer have anything that I can lose as none of my "everything" is dependent on another human being.

That is the blesson of returning.

Share your thoughts on this or any of the posts in this blog. You may leave a comment here or on my coaching page. I look forward to exchanging thoughts with you.

Namaste,

 Claudette

Blessons Along The Way

How many times does Life have to knock you down for you to finally get it? Are some experiences easier to learn from than others for you? Which are the hard ones - relationship, financial, career, health?

In my case, health was and to this day poses the most challenge. The 'plagues' of diabetes and hyperthyroidism visited my house over two decades ago yet I remained in denial. Weighing in at 200lbs then losing 80 in a month were not signals enough to me to get a grip on my health.

My mother had diabetes and, with time, every related and imaginary ailments. My father died at 40+ from complications of diabetes that were escalated by his alcoholism.  None of this meant anything really to me as they both modelled "the art of ignoring" very well.

"Blesson" is a word coined by Karen Salmanshohn and it is one that has become very meaningful to me. My blesson regarding my health was dispensed about two years ago when a short man of a physican stared me down  called me a "coward" and wrote a prescription for insulin! I really am not fond if short men but that is fodder for another past. Never dare me or call me a coward - someone must havd told him. Snitches!!!

The moment of my first self-injection was the turning point. Since then, another short physician came into my health journey  (is there a special medical school for short men?) This one is an endocrinologist and he has me doing things and eating in ways I never imagined.

Not there yet but I am much closer to an ideal for me body weight. My diet and eating habits have vastly improved in quality and quantity.

I love food - as evidenced by today's focus on our page at www.facebook.com/daughtersofsheba.  Most types of food and dishes I will try at least once. Now, however, I eat to live and my life and this journey are so rich and fulfilling without needing to endlessly and obsessively count calories.

What about you, what has been your blesson in food, dieting and/or your health in general? Do share with me through the comments section, on our Facebook page or on Twitter @DOSFoundation.

Have a blessed day!