Wisdom: The Evolution Of Life

Fact of Fiction? A couple quotes come to mind sitting here putting together today’s roundup of Weekday Wisdom to share with you. The first one is “Life imitates art far more than art imitates Life.”― Oscar Wilde Often pondering the true meaning of these words by Mr. Wilde, my thoughts go to another saying: “Be careful what you wish for as you might surely get it.”  Given my outlook on life, such sayings and quotes point me to the matter of focus – what things I am giving my attention

dead end

How To Get Out Of A Dead End

No Through-way Yes, you can climb over walls, jump over hurdles and crawl under some barriers. A dead-end, however, is a dead end. “Dead end: n.1.a. An end of a passage, especially a street, that affords no exit. b. A street or road affording no exit. 2. A situation or subject that allows for no progress or development. (Source: American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fifth Edition.) “An end of passage.” That is exactly where I found myself after returning to a situation that had already shown its true colours.


Time To Hit The Reset Button!

Land of Milk and Honey: Where? This year will be 14 years since we migrated to Canada and specifically settled in Edmonton, Alberta. Things had reach a point on our island home of Jamaica that it was time to hit the reset button. The political temperature of Jamaica was always running high and sad to say, most of us were accustomed to that so that was not the main reason. My career was transitioning, moving away from a primarily public relations and communications focus to a more spiritual/counselling one. In

new year

Living This New Year According To Me

Oh, The Plans We Make… This time last year, I had just graduated with two Bachelor’s degrees and I was preparing to enter graduate school in pursuit of my Master’s. Until my very last semester in college, I had planned on getting my Master’s in Marriage and Family Therapy. But then I visited some programs, did more research, and after shopping around, worried that it was not for me. Instead, after years of much bullying—er, encouragement—from respected professors, I decided to accept an assistant teaching position with the English department

new year

New Year, Better Woman

The Year In Review A lot has happened over the last year, which leads me to wonder at what age we will stop saying that. I am also thinking about the new year. Anyways, my year was full of ups and downs as I am sure everyone’s was. It was my first year of marriage, and boy, was I in for a surprise. People always say marriage is hard but it is hard in a way that is indescribable. I also started a new job almost a year ago and


Emptying Yourself This Holiday Season

A New Christmas Practice Ten years ago, during my studies for a theological degree at a Catholic university, a very interesting word became a part of my vocabulary. Its meaning was well-known to me – emptying – but the beauty of the word made me pay way more attention. “Kenosis” came to have special meaning for the many years following. To this day it is something that has become a habit, even though there are times that I must admit to resisting. The word, as described by an online source, 


Emptiness: Sign of Emotional Trauma

Meeting Emptiness The first time my inner emptiness was visible to me was looking at a photograph of myself taken at my fifth birthday party. There I was, standing on a chair between my half-brother, who was about to cut the cake with me, and another child whose name I could not recall. This was a supposedly a happy moment. My mother had marked my birth since the first year with these parties. They had become a tradition, one that she would keep up until my 16th year. The picture


Filling The Dad-Sized Hole In Your Life

This Man I Call Dad It was just the three of us for as long as I can remember. The memories I have of a loving caring father are pieced together only from what my aunt has told me. Devoted in the first year of my twin sister and my life, the only year of my life that my parents were married, my Dad would hold us, feed us and play with us. But these fabricated memories are like pictures of me looking on at a man holding babies in