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The Madness Revealed

Maybe it’s mad. I don’t know.   The surreality of it all. That was my life.  And I never understood why I felt like I did. Why I dressed like I did. Why I felt like I was just a back up dancer to all the men in my office. Why they got all the credit while I did all the work.  Why I had to cajole and coax them before a big meeting so that I would have some idea of how they could turn on me at the last moment just to get a leg up on the next guy.

These are the men of my past. The men under whom I worked and trained. The men for whom I worked, and dressed. The men for whom I became the person that I thought I had to be in order to be at the table. In order to be relevant. In order to keep my job. In order to pay my bills.

And I was their girl.  The one who smiled. Who dressed for the part.  Who meticulously chose every aspect of my presentation daily, from the colour on the soles of my shoes, to the height of my heels, to the coordination of my purse and pearls. My outfit would be carefully constructed to define my entrance as I would push through the glass doors, and walk into the elevator and press smile ready to face the day as a corporate back up dancer.  I was their girl.  And now it’s clear to me that I am not that girl anymore. Thank God.


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50 over 50

These are things I know for sure.
That time is finite
That beauty is subjective
That every day
 both time and beauty
as it was defined mere seconds ago
changes.
That life is too short to fade away into the background of time.
That life is too short not to ask for what you want, and expect it.
That life is too short to wait, and wish.
That there is a price to pay, but the time spent wishing is a greater loss.
otherwise I know
nothing.

Not sobbing. Just streaming tears.

For my friend, D. 

Arms stretched forward, heels together, and legs reaching the outer edges of my towel,  I close my eyes, breathing, listening to the sound of my breath,  paying attention to its cadence, to its depth.  With each breath, my chest would rise and fill, my spine lifting and releasing. 
My body is alive beneath me - no it's actually vibrating.   There is just too much stimuli. Too many thoughts.  Too many things to do. Too many questions. Too many doubts.  Child's Pose - a total surrender - a total shut down of my nervous system
to cradle it back to life.   
Breath comes in. Breath leaves.  Body lifts, then lowers, lifts, then lowers.   My chest falls closer to the bathroom floor.  Knees widening as the weight of my body pushes its way through
this barrier of bones, tissue and muscle,
submitting to the the floor, free falling with each breath. 
The tears start to come. No they are streaming now.  And I am breathing.   I don't stop them. What's the use? Th…

Living an Audacious Life, in Shoes.

I am just flying home after a week in Vancouver, visiting inspiring shops, and buying shoes for the fall season. This is our third buy since taking over the store and giving it a new life.

The word for this fall season is "Audacious".

To have the audacity to stand up and stand out in your own personal vision of who you are.
To have the audacity to walk into a room and own it.
To have the audacity to know what you want, and to go for it, unabashedly.
To have the audacity to fall in love, and learn to land on the way down.
To have the audacity to   . . . you.

Everyone asks if this is my dream come true, and I guess on days like this it is.