It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Christmas has always been about more than the presents under the tree and the lights on the streets. It is about family and friends around the table, it is about celebrating our faith and the gift of love and forgiveness from God. It is about the joy we share with every Carol sung. It is about the memories made over baking sweets and granny’s Christmas pudding. It is about every tradition from the past and every new tradition you create as you grow older.

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Hello November

Fifty days to Christmas and a week over to the new year, this is my favourite time of the year. The days are getting long and the breeze is getting warm. As I walk down pathways covered in petals, the horizons are a blur. In the distance, I see a Christmas tree, golden and green. It is covered in lights, and wishes and dreams.

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Wake me up when September ends

To be in an existential crisis can feel very daunting and confronting. Recently, I found myself questioning the hope for tomorrow. What if we never reach the future? What if our future and everything it entails is the present and that is all that will ever exist? My boyfriend often talks about the life he envisions for our 80s. It’s adorable to think that someone would do everything they could today to promise you a beautiful tomorrow. What about our terrible twenties and terrific thirties and frightful forties or the fantastic fifties?

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What is self-care?

Sometimes self-care is writing or drawing. Sometimes it is fighting for what is right for you. Sometimes it is saying no. It could also be travelling to a new city alone. Sometimes it is doing absolutely nothing. Self-care is also telling yourself it’s okay to make mistakes; it’s okay to not know. Sometimes it is letting people see you for who you are. It is also not being ashamed of being weak. It is also accepting that you are strong.

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Why do we go looking for pain?

Food for thought from one of my favourite humans, “Why does figuring and coming up with what’s wrong in our lives or even creating situations that make our lives seem bad come more easily to humans?” I don’t know. It just does. Lately, I have become more cynical about everything and everyone around me. My…

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Spring cleaning

Moving has been an experience of self-learning and discovery, with its own challenges. For the most part, it goes by in a blur. You make checklists and strike off to-dos. You’re so busy and focused on downsizing, you forget you’re also expanding. You’re expanding your life, again.

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To grow in grief

When you lose someone you love, you don’t simply grieve their loss. With them, you lose yourself and parts of those around you. With them, you lose friends and family and partners you thought would continually stand by you. With them, you lose light. With them, you lose love. With them, you lose a piece of kindness from your whole. With them, you lose faith in the Almighty. With them, you lose a version of life you were prepared for. With them, you lose a piece of life too.

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Can we give love another chance?

As millennials, we find ourselves at crossroads because we’re told or seem to believe that love is hard and impossible. Sure, it involves compromise and is a work-in-progress. But when you think about the person you share this love with, it is meant to feel and be beautiful. It is the people you share this love with that often makes it bittersweet. If you or they didn’t find to make it last, maybe it wasn’t love? It might have been something good, just not love. So don’t give up on love and don’t give up on yourself.

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Why I write

I am grateful for the power of love and magic writing holds. Writing is about getting up, getting well, and getting over. While I may not be a writer in its truest sense, I write because it fills me with hope and is the light that guides me home. A journal in your drawer or the draft of a novel waiting to be published or quick notes on your phone or maybe letters to a stranger…don’t ever stop. Every little note, haiku or post I have written over the years, came together as this unusual yet vivid mosaic wall. A wall of rage, joy, hormones, heartbreak, fear, anxiety, friendship, love and so much more. A wall with clusters of colours ― blacks and blues with bits of golden yellow cutting through and dots of green in between. A wall of my story and my journey, when looked at in isolation were ceramic shards but when put together made a beautiful mosaic wall of memories…of life.

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To the ships that sailed…

…what if? Maybe I have a type or maybe it’s just my luck. My past relationships started with the boys convincing me there was a chance for “us”, until I was totally sucked in and in love. That’s when things started to change. Turns out, once you’re over this “challenge” phase of any relationship, you…

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