Happy New Year (It's a Jubilee Year)

I was speaking with a friend who is returning to their art of painting, and as they shared some of their pieces with me, I recognized it as abstract art. It caused me to think of this blog, where a lot of the images on this site are from searching for abstract art, and I realized that I have really left this blog, and therefore a huge and meaningful section of my work, hanging.

When I moved to a new website, I did link it in my last blog post here, but for financial reasons, I shut that site down, so that link is no longer working, and hasn't been for well over a year. I have also now entirely removed that link from the post.

As such, I wanted to link my Substack to this site, to help people find my newer work. 

Check out my newer writing on my Substack.

Peace and love, 

Carly

Photo by Turgay Koca

Come Meet Me Over Here

Greetings my wonderful readers!

This marks the end of the activity on this blog. I am inexplicably grateful and amazed at the work I did on this site. Publishing this last post in January 2022, makes it a near perfect 10 years from my first post in January 2011. There are over 500 posts on this site, all chronicling my spiritual, and as of the past year and a bit, wellness journey. 

I have absolutely treasured this blog. In its early years, I would post and edit articles for days afterward. This blog was just a couple of months old when I showed it to a business owner and got an admin job based almost solely on my writing skills. Sadly that job didn't work out, but what does remain is the beautiful memory of an executive being deeply moved and appreciative of my writing abilities. 

I am amazed at the commitment I showed to this blog, and so grateful for the natural ending of it. I know I tried to close this blog last December, which would have also been acceptable in my mind, number wise; a tribute post in January truly would have made it a perfect 10, being 2011-2021, but there was still more work to do. I had to keep hold of it whilst I built up my new website and my brand, and then lose it in the spirit of financial health, and start again.

Happy New Year, and see you on the flipside 💗🙏

Being Worthy in and of Myself

One of my hardest lessons the past year was in frugality. Balancing my financial scale was like breaking an addiction. There was frustration, tears, conflict, and even moments where my body experienced a sort of ache. Coming to terms with the truth of my financial situation, basically that I was living in deficit, was both cathartic and painful. But so worthwhile. It took just over a year to truly get my feet planted on the ground, and to mentally change my thinking around money. This also included an acceptance of my social status, and what that realistically permitted without going into enormous debt.

I used shopping and salons to conceal my feelings of inadequacy and shame, and that ultimately began a cycle of then not having the funds for what I really needed, the basics of a heathy life, even things as simple as a nutritious meal. I had to learn how to be happy with what I had, or to get what I wanted at a lesser cost. I went from shopping at expensive department stores to shopping at thrift stores. I still struggle with this today, but through the help of strong people in my life, I can put my desires and fears into perspective.

The absolute most crushing reality is not pursuing my academic interests. I work through this by making due with the resources I currently have, and I have some incredible resources, if only I apply them. So I practice mindfulness, and remind myself that maybe someday, I can study what I want, where I want, when I am in a position to responsibly do so. It is better to live within my means and have the money for what I need, instead of attaining a certain status at the cost of my wellbeing.

In my new lifestyle of learning how to live minimally, slowly, and without debt, I had to, and continue to have to, learn about humility. I have to be okay with what I have, which is really not easy when my first addiction of “not enough”, in the form of alcoholism, taunts me by saying those boots won’t make it through another winter, or people won't respect me without updated and expensive accessories, or that I can’t stop biting my nails if I don’t have an expensive overlay that requires bi-weekly professional maintenance.

It has hurt to accept my current lot. My shifting of priorities had to happen, because I was sick and tired of hitting financial bottoms. Even still, my delusions of grandeur seem to be intrinsic, and run very deep within my psyche. I still hit walls today where I have to practice acceptance; I allow myself brief indulgences of self-deprecation as I sort through the feelings of disappointment when I realize I can’t make certain purchases. But I don’t stay in that place for long, because that place is a void that will snuff out the spark within me that has the potential of one day becoming a flame.

Therefore, practicing gratitude has been a go-to tool to get me through the harder moments of my financial recovery journey. I am grateful for what I do have, and for the people in my life who keep me focused and on-track. I am amazed at how much I have grown since the end of 2020 when I took my first step on this journey by not signing a contract for a new phone, and by choosing to use the phone I already owned and to instead just pay for the service.

I also stopped comparing myself to others, especially others who grew up having money. Once I accepted my present and my past, I was able to not only appreciate what I either naturally had, or what I attained up until this point, and to say, “That’s nice for them.” In this exercise I began to deepened my own self-love. I began to recognize my own beauty, and to be thankful to my family for instilling certain values in me that I can best recall when I’m not lost in the luxuries of the world.

For me, the levelling of my pride that leads to a sick financial state is a daily reprieve. So while I have balanced my bank account, I still must conscientiously work on my financial health with the same dedication as I do my physical and mental health. I used money to fill a God-sized hole which is currently being filled with gratitude, acceptance, perspective, and hope, but I work on the premise that hole is still there, and can get empty without a daily renewal of my mind.

It’s not easy to be in this world, but it’s getting easier to love myself despite the messaging all around me, saying I need things outside of myself to be loved. It has been a challenging lesson to get to this point. My partner Mike helped me the most to get on this track and my best friend Lisa helped me stay on it as she shared her wisdom which helped fortify me as I continued to grow. Getting financially healthy is not something I could have done on my own. I needed others to inspire me, such as people who live debt-free and who have slow-living and minimalism mentalities.

Thank you to 2020 and now as we close another year, 2021, for presenting me with so many incredible life instructions to heal this trauma of over-spending, and to all of my friends both online and offline, for being bright lights of passion and support, especially my academic friends who don't give up sharing ideas, even during this time of suppressed information, and to God for reminding me that I am His child, beautiful and worthy in and of myself, not needing the wealth of a passing world to validate me.

Love This Moment by Pooja Grover

A Gentle Reminder to Myself

 As I study for my next level of certification as a health coach, I was taken aback by a joke made by the instructor in the video. In her reference to Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, she drew a line at the bottom of the pyramid to have wine at the base. She said she hopes we don't mind that she altered the theory, and that everyone needs a glass of wine now and then. It caused me to think about my alcoholism, and was a great reminder that a very small percentage of the population actually live with this mental illness. I realized that it's my need to continually be present with my alcoholism, because in honoring it, I am living in both authenticity and gratitude. It is in these realms where I am the most happy. 

After having moved in with my partner, in a basically open concept home, I have had a huge paradigm shift in my life. I have never lived so closely with someone before, and as a result I am not doing as much independent work. To add to this, I haven't been going to my AA meetings after a Covid scare at my work near the end of the summer, which caused me to take half a week off while I waited for my negative test result, bringing me very much back to the reality that we are still in a pandemic, and contact tracing is not something I am wanting to participate in.

In all of this, I have become almost one unit with my partner, as well as only catching a few online AA meetings here and there. It has therefore been challenging to identify as an alcoholic, especially as I recently celebrated 8 years of sobriety, and having had a spiritual awakening don't really grapple with this condition today. Yet this is something I never want to be far away from, because I know that I have a mental disease in remission, not cured. I love identifying as an alcoholic, it brings me back to my roots, and makes my life make sense. It is a privilege to be recovered, and not a reason to disconnect. 

Today I have learned self-compassion, as taught by Kristin Neff, and I have also lived through so much the past year, most notably my rejection of pharmaceutical medication, and moving through grief. These obstacles overcome makes these pandemic challenges much more easy to put into perspective. "This too shall pass" was an axiom I couldn't wrap my head around until even recently, but today, I know that it's true. 

Finding ways to be present in isolation has been manageable, and it all returns to a one day at a time philosophy that my program of recovery taught me. A program that I can apply to all facets of my life today - a life that I am now proud of because of certain Steps I took and continue to take daily. Learning to live honestly and within my own means has been challenging, but very rewarding and healing. I am learning self-mastery, and a necessary component of that has been acceptance of what I cannot change, and in those areas courage to change my thinking, so that I can live in grace. 

Mindful ‘YOU’ Peaceful ‘YOU’ by Pooja Grover

Meditations on the Resurrection

As we enter the season of Advent in the Church - that is, the time of preparation for the birth of Jesus, I've continued since the season of Lent - the time of preparation for his death and resurrection, to contemplate his resurrection. This year, with my dad's passing, the resurrection was more pivotal. I felt desperate to believe in the resurrection, but my rational mind could not truly accept it. I continued my journey into blatant heresies, so far removed to be even recognizable to traditional Christian doctrine, and I continued to feel dejection. 

But as I moved in accordance to God's grace in this recent feast day of Christ the King, I began a new meditation as prompted by one of my favourite apologists, Bishop Robert Barron: is Christ truly the king of my world? As I mentally moved through the checklist, contemplating behaviour change to denote an affirmation, I found a new confidence, and a new relief. I was reminded of a simpler time in my not so distant past, where reliance and trust in God more than sufficed, it enraptured me, and assured me that I was safe and provided for.

It was in my recommitment to the Church that I was given my first glimpse of the reality of the resurrection, which has come to me through clemency, consistency, and heartache. In considering the pandemic, and all of my shortcomings and defeats the past 20 months, I questioned if I lost, or if I am going to lose. But I recalled the teaching that we are victorious in Christ. Through our adoption we become co-heirs - conquers through the resurrection. 

I have never had trouble identifying with what the cross represents, especially as a codependent with boundary challenges, but the glory of the resurrection, I could never bring myself to even consider. As I finally felt a rejection of the good things in this world not just on a surface level, but on a deep gut-wrenching sense of loss and forsakenness level, I was able to find a glimmer of belief in the resurrection. I had a sense of relief that not only am I not lost, but I am untouchable. 

It is in the fantastical nature of the resurrection that I defeat death and his minions that try to lord in every aspect of my life, and that in a pandemic, seem to win. Even if I can only connect to the resurrection as an idea and this point in my spiritual journey, it is all that is needed to remain triumphant in Christ. How else could I go from feeling truly downtrodden and defeated, to encouraged and revitalized, unless to believe that I am victorious.

This world would have me believe that I am worthless, that I am a victim of my traumas and my circumstances, and that I cannot change. The ruler of this world manipulates people to believe the lies of consumerism and violence, of fast living and disregard for the planet and all life on it. In the death of, and now I see, resurrection of Jesus, we are invited to slow down. To act in dignity and to choose right over wrong, no matter our fears of what others might think.

Today I profess that whether a person believes it or not, whether it's socially accepted or not, the resurrection, in a most mystical way, is a fact. Nothing, including my hyper-logical mind, can further deter me from this reality. I have relieved those who I have envied from the job of blinding my convictions with the morality of the world, and in that, I replace Christ as my King and final authority over my life, especially my afterlife.

Photo by Pisit Heng on Unsplash

Eight Years (The Only Way Out is Through)

Today I am 8 years sober, so I wanted to commemorate this day with 8 ways that sobriety and the Twelve Step program of Alcoholics Anonymous has transformed my life:

    1)  I have become consistent and reliable
    2)  I am able to connect to myself, to others, and to God
    3)  I have learned to ease my fears of not belonging or not being accepted
    4)  I have learned how to speak my truth and advocate for myself
    5)  I have become empowered to live honestly

    6)  I have been reconciled to my friends and family
    7)  I have fostered strong female friendships
    8)  I have learned how to be accountable, and to not be a victim

Three years ago, when I received my five-year medallion, I was in a lot of emotional pain. Family drama, low self-esteem, and apathy, made the year or two leading up to that accomplishment a perpetual taunting of relapse. By grace and stubbornness, I made it through, and my only message that night was to not give up. The statistics for relapse in the first five years are huge. For every five-year medallion, 45 one-year medallions are handed out. In this pandemic, that number is probably higher now. 

To make it to a state where relapse is less and less likely, requires a long and hard-fought resolution. Willpower is but a renewable resource, and can be recharging when we need it the most. This is just the way it is, and why as a health coach we are trained to not rely heavily on it. In these most desperately trying times, I have found acceptance of pain and suffering to be the only true remedy. We made a decision to not escape through intoxicants. It hurts in the moment, but it leads to an everlasting reward. As the psalmist wrote, “Weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”

Eventually, those sober nights turn into sober days, sober days into sober weeks, sober weeks into sober months, months into years, then decades, until this way of living becomes the only normal one we truly know, and turning back on it becomes less and less likely. This is because as with so many other things, we are in a numbers game, and we eventually start to have wins in life. Gaining confidence in sobriety, we begin to understand that coping with losses via the bottle is no longer a viable option.

Getting to that point however, might take dark nights of the soul – the only way out is through. My message at 8 years is the exact same as it was at 5 - don't give up in those hard moments. We might feel lonely, ashamed, bored, excited, triggered, apathetic, depressed, confused, victimized...the list can go on, ad infinitium, but eventually we will come to understand that those are just feelings that we don’t have to avoid or be enslaved to. We can eventually learn to alleviate and even transmute these feelings, and being in them soberly, can enable that process.

Embrace Yourself - Be Happy "YOU" by Pooja Grover

On Forgiveness

“My people have been lost sheep. 

Their shepherds have led them astray

and turned them loose in the mountains. 

They have lost their way 

and can’t remember how to get back to the sheepfold. 

All who found them devoured them. 

Their enemies said, 

'We did nothing wrong in attacking them, 

for they sinned against the Lord, 

their true place of rest,

and the hope of their ancestors.'" - Jeremiah 50.6-7

In this passage from the prophet Jeremiah, verse 6 well describes generational trauma, and verse 7 helps explain how society, through various structures such as media, education, and religion, can normalize abuse and neglect, through the dehumanizing and blaming of the victims. In biblical days, justice was served by retribution, but when Jesus came, he offered a revolutionary way to live – to forgive.

What does it mean to forgive? I’ve been contemplating much about forgiveness, and what that looks like. My favourite understanding is to loosen the contempt in one’s heart. When I think about forgiveness, there seems to be different degrees of loosening. Sometimes it’s easy, and I can just accept a circumstance and walk away from it. Other times, it ties directly into my trauma and it’s not as easy to just move on from those offences.

Dr. Charles Stanley teaches that to have peace means to be tethered to God. This was a fascinating concept to me, and I went to the dictionary to confirm this. Lo and behold, the root word of peace is “pact”. When I am connected to a power greater than myself, greater in this case for attributes such as grace, understanding, compassion, humility, love, and forgiveness, I can better muster the courage and strength to encompass those traits myself.

When I am connected to God, for me that is through the person of Jesus as understood through a biblical worldview, I am better able to remove myself from the trauma-based victimhood that I seem to inherently come from, and can transcend to look for ways in which my offender might be suffering, and how that could be connected to their behaviour. It is in that space where I am safe to seek compassion and reconciliation, because I am tied directly to God, channeling that power of forgiveness.

It might take days, weeks, months, it might take a lot of prayer and meditation, and it might take the processing of very destructive thinking that wishes for retribution over forgiveness, but there has not yet come a situation where I cannot find the grace to immediately take a step back, find solace in God, and not do any harm back.

If I want to have real peace, for me that means to have courage, purpose, community, and expansion, I must learn to forgive, in every circumstance. I have found that God will offer me refuge to sort out the hurt, but I must seek to calm the storm within, and resist the temptation for payback. This is the only way to truly make a change for the better in my own life, and to be the change I want to see in the world overall.

Agnes Pelton, Untitled (1931)

The Fine Line

There is a verse that the apostle Paul wrote, that has been greatly disturbing my spirit. But I have come to believe that he was simply writing from his point of grace - from where God permitted him to write about.

When I read 1 Corinthians 6, "Don’t you realize that those who do wrong will not inherit the Kingdom of God? Don’t fool yourselves. Those who indulge in sexual sin, or who worship idols, or commit adultery, or are male prostitutes, or practice homosexuality, or are thieves, or greedy people, or drunkards, or are abusive, or cheat people—none of these will inherit the Kingdom of God", I think, who doesn't fall into that category, at some point or another, if not chronically?

Paul was a zealot, meaning he was enthusiastic, didn't stray from his principles, and had black and white thinking. This passage has no room for forgiveness in it, and yet Jesus ate with sinners. In Paul's conviction for his faith, before converting to Christianity, he participated in the execution of people who deviated from doctrine (also known as heretics). After sorting through my own black and white thinking, I now understand this to be a trauma-based perception that requires deep healing and understanding.

Once becoming a Christian, the premise is that person has a supernatural compassion that has the ability to see past sin and error, just as Jesus did. With Paul's aptitude for grave judgement, I couldn't reconcile some of his teachings, but today I do believe that he was simply writing with the collective grace that was in the world at that time. This is an understanding that has come to me through my own sufferings and timeouts alone in meditation and contemplation. 

I no longer fear questioning the shortcomings of even the prophets. I view the main problem to be when we accept the Bible as inerrant, or 100% divinely inspired. It is in these moments when we lose our connection to each other, and therefore to God. 

I cannot fathom saying to a person whose loved one died in an active state of alcoholism, greed, or lust, that they are not in/going to heaven, nor could I believe in my heart that is possible, after losing someone who did pass in this state. It is now my conviction that anyone who advocates hell has simply never lived through the tragedy of overwhelming grief.

Perhaps 2,000 years ago people were truly vicious to each other, and to hold these principles was status quo, but again, the apostles were held to a higher standard of compassion and dignity. With each passing year we as a society become more lenient, open, and compassionate. I believe it's time for people within the conventional establishments to be sensitive to those whose viewpoints become affected by such destructive forms of delusion, instead of casting off these views/people as heretical, progressive, or non-believing. 

What I have come to understand after living out my conversion publicly, is that God reveals His truths in different ways to different people, oftentimes privately; and there is always invitation to be connected and imperfect, in the same space. It is only when we close the gates of heaven to each other, that we truly begin to fade from grace. 

"What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law, and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you shut the door of the Kingdom of Heaven in people’s faces. You won’t go in yourselves, and you don’t let others enter in, either." - Matthew 23.13

Image by Thomas B. from Pixabay

My Religious Experiences

"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." (2 Corinthians 4.16-18)

Though I was raised in a Western household, I was never a "Christian". I was not baptized, I never attended church, and when I got to high school, I was so far removed from religion I thought the youth group that seemed to appear everywhere was a cult. Sure, my mom ensured I knew some Bible stories (in true Blackwell form the dark and disturbing ones), and I was quizzed twice a year as to what exactly we were celebrating at Christmas and Easter, but I actually grew up very separated from any sort of spirituality, and I vividly remember a period in my childhood where I had an overwhelming fear of Jesus that at time brought me to tears.

After being crushed by a self-imposed crisis I could not postpone or evade, I began to look for answers online. I didn't fully know what I was seeking, but I joined the MySpace Religion and Philosophy forum, and was introduced to Gnosticism. I numbed my fears of Jesus in adulthood, and I was fascinated by all of the different theories of this elusive figure. I also resonated with the Islamic understanding of him. I began to develop an online community, and started to self-identify as a Gnostic.

But the real shift happened when I inadvertently discovered yoga. In the mid-2000's I took my first kundalini yoga class, just trying to get more flexible for my dance classes, and that was when I began to live out spirituality. And while I took the sets, meditation, and lifestyle too far, there was a sort of reckoning that allowed me to move from an atheist/agnostic to some sort of identifiable spiritual belief, and that was what I was desperate for, but didn't realize. My yoga teacher had converted to Sikhism, a religion that has roots in Islam, which I was self-studying. I felt really good seeing all of these pieces coming together. I felt like I belonged to something that I could be proud of.

Eventually, I burnt myself out. I incurred physical ailments that I still to this day question are fully healed. By the late 2000's, I was ready to exit my practice. I was being called to study Jesus in a more orthodox way, and I was looking to become integrated into a recognizable community. With my parents being raised Protestant, my natural inclination was to look at their families churches. I was not well received, and was about to give up. With my Gnostic tendencies I was very attracted to the Eastern Orthodox churches, but struggled to find English services. 

I started to think I was destined to never be a "true" Christian, and this greatly distressed me because by this point I was reading the Bible and Jesus was once again haunting me. I recalled what he said to John the Baptist when he wanted to be baptized, "Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.” (Matthew 3.15). I couldn't give up. I asked my friend to take me to a Catholic service. I never thought I would ever attend a Catholic church. My time on the Internet showed much hostility toward the Catholic church, but I felt desperate, and it seemed to be my final option. 

I ended up finding the church I would be initiated into. The priest's sermon moved me to the core. He talked about Jesus fulfilling the law, and that it's not our works that save us. This was revolutionary for me, because my yoga practice taught me that I had to do things very specifically, or it wouldn't work. In that homily I was freed from my obsessive compulsions, my perfectionism, and my fears. I was home.

Of course I have struggled within the church over the past decade, but attending mass and pledging allegiance to Christ has been one of the only things I have been consistent with in my life. I have found complete freedom in my faith. I am not perfect in my practice, nor in beliefs in the doctrines, but I have found there is space for me to work it out with grace and privacy. What truly led me to the church is the belief that Jesus was telling the truth when he said that he had prepared a place for me. I believe he came for my dad in his last hour on earth, and my priest carried me through the darkest week of my life as I made arrangements for my father's earthly resting place. 

Today I draw inspiration and strength from various religious and spiritual teachings. Despite what I consider blips in my practice where I veered on the side of fundamentalism, I enjoy Buddhist teachings that I believe pair well with mystical Catholicism. I also have a program of recovery that enables me to fully live my faith, through the acts of humility and service. It's been an at times jarring and painful walk to where I am today in my faith, which still throws me curve balls from time to time, but there is strength in numbers and in consistency. Every time I get back up and brush the dust off, I am that much more solidified in my faith, and in my commitment to Christ. 

The Longest Journey

I’ve been reflecting a lot on what my natural talents are, and considering if I could make a living with those talents. As I wrote about in Cleaning out my Closet, I came across my high school report card. I found it interesting to see where I was naturally good at certain subjects, and I realized that I unintentionally stayed with those disciplines up to this present day.

As I consider upgrading my professional skills, I am aware of the academic challenges within the pursuit of certain subjects that I would struggle with, whether for technical or egotistical reasons. I consider myself fortunate to have landed in my current career, even though I am still working toward more allocates, but I realized that there is a part of me, or a part that’s been removed from me perhaps more accurately said, that makes me believe I can’t be successful in the areas that I am naturally gifted in.

My past actions, propelled by mental illness, have led to a “God-sized hole” inside of me that tells me I am bad. This is a very serious belief system, I would say on par with fundamentalism, because it is so close-minded and therefore damaging. This negative dialogue is buried so deep within me, that I am not even conscious of it. It is only through certain action steps, including prayer and meditation, that I became aware of this startling fact of my reality.

This deficit in my character, this gap that I operated from for decades without even knowing it, is so elusive that even when I was first taught about the concept of trying to fill myself up to feel better, I didn’t understand it. By grace through faith, plus works, I not only understand it today, I have a connection to it where I can access it and call it out when it rears its ugly head. But it’s never really gone, and this is why every day is new and different.

Accepting myself and my circumstances has always been my greatest challenge. As I find myself again at a crossroad, I now can make more informed decisions, that today factor in my mental health, and my higher power as well. It can be frightening to follow our hearts. Wise people who have come before me say that the longest journey is from the head to the heart. I have certainly found this to be true.

Subsiding my fears, my resentments, my pride, and my self-seeking motives has been a heroic effort that continues to bear fruit. It is worth questioning my motives, and it is courageous to reach out for help to a trusted source when I need a sounding board. I’m at a place today where I can make mature decisions that are rooted in reality and realism. I don’t exclude my talents and passions, but I also can work within my means today, as well.

Being the Best Version of Myself

I've been meditating daily, pretty much since April 2020, when we were in the first lockdown. I appreciated the time and space I had to go deeper into my spiritual practice; it was a life-changing practice. It transformed me, and prepared me for life events that I might not have managed so well otherwise.

Almost a year later, when I was back in school, I learned mindfulness meditation. I took to that like a sponge in water. I picked it up really fast, because I was practicing my own hodgepodge methods the year leading up to that more organized approach, so there was something for its concepts to stick to. 

But what I noticed in my class, as the instructor guided us to our breath, was that my breathing was very shallow. That didn't really bother me, as one of the tenants of mindfulness meditation is non-striving. Therefore I was able to fully embrace my meditation, and just be with my shallow breath, knowing I was on the right track. 

I've never use any apps, but earlier this month when I was searching for a loving kindness meditation, I discovered Meditation Space on Spotify. I always liked their Head Space ads, but didn't want to purchase the app. I was thrilled to discover this free service of daily 10 minute meditations, and I have put my personal 15-20 minute meditations aside to enjoy these ones with a beginner's mind (another tenant of mindfulness).

The other day, when we were guided to our breath, I noticed how long and deep my breathing was again. I realized that I was in incredible stress the months leading up to my father's death, to the point it cut my breath off. I knew I was in a negative space, and I took the actions I could at the time for self-care, but now I understand more clearly how mental stress can affect us physically. 

I love mindfulness. While it doesn't offer an escape from my problems, when practicing it, it takes away all of my fears and worries. That gives me the space and therefore the capacity to come up with solutions to my problems. It is a incredible tool. 

When someone appears to be unconscious, we check for their breath. Today I understand this to be more than a worldly life-force which signifies we are alive on earth. In the Hebrew bible, breath translates as the spirit of God. When I am connected to my breath, I am connected to God, because I am living in the moment, which is what Jesus instructed us to do. I am conscious of my ability to be soothed and to heal. 

Without meditation in my life, I am not sure I would be able to accept myself as I am, or my circumstances as they are. I am grateful that the people around me led me to this practice, so that with the power granted to me through it, I can continue to show up as the best version of myself. 

"Enchanted Garden", Rassouli Art Studio

Just Be

I've felt compelled to write. I have been so overwhelmed by current events around the pandemic, that I have felt my calling as an artist to come forth. I really thought I was done with this blog. I have been focusing more on my new website, blackwell.health, but as I have discovered through my vain attempts to have a brand on Instagram, I don't want to be a coach. At least I don't want to fish for clients online. My time being brilliant on social media was an incredibly unsatisfying and anticlimactic experience, and I just want to get back to musing on God and on where I relate to this conception of a Higher Power.

I am also coming out the other side of desperately grieving my father's untimely death. That knocked the wind out of me. That took all of my passion, zest, and curiosity. I was in survival mode for several months straight, but a big part of that was living outside of my means, trying to stay in the house we shared, which I couldn't afford. Now that I have been blessed to make new arrangements, which freedom through recovery and lessons in humility have granted me, I have space again. I can create again.

Things are very different now. My heart is still broken, but I can experience God moving those parts around, reformatting them to make a new heart. That's exciting to me, because I think it's an improved, more courageous, more caring, more giving one. I wish it wasn't ripped out through such a traumatic experience, I miss my dad all the time, but I am grateful for this second chance at life. A life that's connection, that's compassionate, that truly, maybe for the first time, can freely love, and accept love too. Love that is possible only through being an imperfect human being.

Because I can no longer pretend things are okay when they're not, I can't pretend to be a guru when I can't manage my own life, like when I'm talking about being cured from my alcoholism, but have unmanageable debt that I'm ashamed of. Nor can I hope to be a confident coach online when I have finally understood that I have social anxiety, which for some reason my best friend knew all along, but which is news to me. But irregardless of my mental hangups, I just don't enjoy being someone with all the answers. I have unfollowed almost all the "coaches" I was following, and I instead follow my heart. What makes it feel lighter and brighter? That's where you'll find me. It's in the middle now, where the people are.

Today I want to have friends, not admirers; co-learners, not students; a humble life, not a fake one that I can't physically, mentally, or spiritually support. The Dalai Lama said that happiness is the highest form of health. I am not sure I feel as much truth or relief resonate through me as when I reflect on that quote. I have been on a quest to get healthy for the past 15 years, and the missing component was honesty. 

I now understand why I wasn't honest. The level of falsity was so deep, I didn't even recognize it until a little more than a year ago, after nearly 7 years of sobriety. It's a survival mechanism that my twisted, anxious, fearful mind told me I needed so that I won't be attacked. But the only person doing the assaulting was me and my own behaviour.

It's a long trudge, getting to the bottom of my patterns, but there is always alleviation upon discovery, and with that, empowerment. It's good to be back. It's good to write. It's good to feel the fire once again, though it's a small flame, and seems at times that it can easily go out. That's okay, because now I know if it does go out again, it will spark once more. Because life is about ebbs and flows, ecstasy and mundanity, reflection and action, work and rest. I know how to ride the waves today, I know how to work hard, and how to practice self-care, in turn. I know how to just be. That, for me today, is the pinnacle of my recovery. 

Treating the Alcoholic with Compassion

After writing my passion paper that was worth 40% of my final grade, and sharing it as an invitation for people who qualify as Al-Anon members to view the disease of alcoholism with compassion, I discovered the tension that some people might have to this concept of openly loving someone who is slowly destroying themselves (and hurting others while they do it).

Sadly, this world is not very confident in what compassion looks like, but I had to learn the hard way what it actually is, and how to exhibit it. Compassion is not the same as submission. Compassion is not the same as weakness, or having no boundaries, or having low self-esteem. No, it is the opposite. 

Compassion is being strong when feeling completely beaten down by darkness. It's giving, by caring about what the other person is experiencing, more than what one's own desires or discomforts are. It's looking for a solution when the world has long given up. It's understanding that things are not as they seem on the surface, and that someone who is hurting themselves is in their most basic form, very hurt. Compassion is strength. It's holding space and sharing, even when we don't want to. 

For a few months, I stopped understanding alcoholism as a disease, and I rejected that model. I believed that it was a great step forward that gave alcoholics a way to receive help, instead of being locked away mercilessly and in some cases cruelly, but I also thought it was time to evolve this model to include trauma. What I didn't take into account is, trauma can be healed, but the recovered alcoholic cannot ever safely pick up another drink. I therefore had to concede, once again, that alcoholism is an illness that goes into remission, at best.

I empathize that people who have been hurt by a loved one's drinking might think that they were the good ones, or the innocent bystanders, but when honestly looking at the whole picture, we generally don't treat alcoholics well. It's normal to respond to problem drinkers without compassion, and it's a way of life to not have the space to process the confusing challenges that disease, such as alcoholism, presents to us. 

Enabling or people-pleasing are not the same as compassion, though they can become problematic character traits that arise from the traumatizing circumstances of living in an alcoholic home. Enabling or people-pleasing is doing something to get something, whether it's a feeling or an action, or it can be to avoid something such as an argument. Those traits are sicknesses in and of themselves, rooted in dishonesty, that drive the person acting out in them further into dis-ease. 

Compassion, on the other hand, is action out of genuine concern for someone else. An act of compassion can be as simple as saying hello and acknowledging someone, and then walking away. An act of compassion has boundaries, and it is not self-sacrificing. Compassion does not deplete us or leave us with character traits that need to be healed - it is a protected strength that comes from the understanding that all people are equal, and some are in insurmountable pain. Compassion thinks ahead - it sees the frailty of human life, and the suffering of the afflicted. A person who can act in compassion can put a moment of discomfort aside, to get to the truth of the matter. Compassion is the principle behind holding space, which becomes a safe place for all people to recover.

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