" You think you Have Seen Her Naked?"

    
Such a great title isn't it? It definitely captured my attention!


My sister found this and posted it on Facebook about a week ago.

As many of you single women out there in the sea of the dating world know- yes, I am with you out there as well, we yearn for a man to see us for who we truly are , not just for our physical appearance.

We yearn for them to look into our soul and fall in love with that woman , the girl that still lives inside despite the number on her drivers' license, the woman who is busy taking care of her kids and family and at the end of the day fall's asleep on the laundry room floor from exhaustion, the woman who is struggling to get her degree and work a job at the same time, the woman who sometimes doesn't have time to put makeup on, the woman who takes an hour and half to get ready for that special dinner you are taking her to, the woman who really wants to fit into those size 6 jeans but is still hovering at size 14 and enjoying the delicious plate of pasta!

I have been out in the sea of dating for quite some time now. Each date I go on, I learn something about myself and something about the person I am with. My perspective on people and dating has evolved and grown over the years. I look at relationships on a more spiritual plane now - not a religious plane - a place of connectivity and love of the soul, not solely based on looks. Don't get me wrong, I love handsome men! They are truly yummy! And my girlfriends laugh at me every time a hot guy walks by us in a restaurant and I can't help but stare and wonder!!!!!  Hahaha!

But life is so much more than that. And what we send out into the world, comes back to us for sure- so ladies don't judge men based on looks alone, they are people too, with quirks and life lessons learned of their own.

And so, no matter how many dates that I go on, and how many different men I have met over time - I think this poem sums it up for me.

Do you really see me for who I truly am?

The Dawn of a New Day

 


I have been waking up extraordinarily early over the last few months. Way too early if you ask me, around 5:30 am and sometimes 4:00am. It makes for a very long day for sure.  But one of the parts I love about this quiet time in the morning is the chance to see a new day arrive.

As I sipped on my hot coffee and looked out my office window, I can see the street light still aglow  as the darkness begins to turn to light. It happens between 7 and 7:30 in the morning , the time I normally get up, after the dawn of the day has already arrived.

There were days when I was so frustrated that I would be awake at the wee hours of the morning,  knowing I had a full day ahead, but then something came to me, "It's the Dawn of a New Day." I smiled and was comforted by this thought.

You see, my Mother's name was Dawn and now as each morning arrives and I wake up with my eyes barely open , I smile between 7 and 7:30 in the morning. I miss her every day. Not a day goes by that she isn't on my mind.

So now I celebrate each new day with her as the sun comes up, knowing that she is with me.

The Call of Creativity, a Loud Whisper from My Mother

It's been a really long time since I have written a blog or written my Morning Pages. In fact, it feels like it has been a really long time since my heart and my zest for life has shown its courage to once again, come out of hiding. The day my Mother died , December 10, 2015 was a day of exhilaration in the morning hours and a day of utter despair in the afternoon.

You see, I was given an incredible opportunity to speak in front of an audience of about 60 people for a major corporation in town regarding wardrobe styling for the workplace. I was thrilled beyond measure and scared to death at the same time. My Mother helped me in any way she could by giving me encouraging words each day leading up to the engagement and in fact, she helped me out financially as well when I was to come up with some cash for the outfit I was to wear .

My friends were going to be with me as models for various work attire, so I knew that my "sisterhood team" was there to support should I utterly fail miserably!

The day before the presentation I was in a meeting at a job I had just started and my Mom called to say, everything was all set - she had paid for my outfit and I didn't need to worry.

I thanked her , wanting to cry , knowing my Mom was always there to support and encourage me whenever I decided to climb another mountain in my life.  I couldn't cry because I had to go back into a meeting, but my heart was content knowing my Mom, once again was by my side and my friends would be surrounding me.

As it turns out the presentation went really well and I felt at home on that stage in front of so many people. I was surprised and shocked at that fact , but somewhere deep in my heart, I knew I was destined to inspire others no matter what the topic.

I went to lunch with the executives from the company that hired me and was eager to call my Mom afterwards to let her know how it went.

The phone went to voicemail.

I thought, well, I will congratulate myself and go get a cup of coffee and a pastry heart from this little coffee shop that everyone raves about.

And so I sat there , waiting for my Mom to call me back.  I knew she would have been proud of me and I so had wished she was in the audience to see what I had accomplished.

I drove home, returning the clothes from the models and got comfy on the couch to watch a Hallmark movie and relax a bit.

I still didn't hear back from my Mom , but I didn't worry too much as the last time I hounded her with phone calls to see if she was ok, she yelled at me and told me to stop worrying about her.

Well.. as it turns out.. I did get a phone call about an hour later. It wasn't my Mother. It was her husband , he too couldn't get in touch with her. He sent the neighbor to go check on her.

The second call from my Mother's husband came in not too long after the first one.

My Mother had died.

And in that very instant, I thought my heart would never be the same. The shock of that phone call sent me into action to gather my family.

I did what every family does, figure out the logistics of a wake etc.. But I was only going through the motions, knowing that inside my heart was broken in a thousand pieces and my life as I knew it had stopped.

We went through the weekend saying our goodbyes and on Tuesday, my house was empty . Not a sound could be heard except for the purring of my cats on my lap.

The months ahead found me cuddled on the couch in front of the television watching HallMark movies, day after day. Thank god I had a job to get to or I would have never left the house.

My writing stopped, my dreams stopped, my motivation and zest to climb mountains suddenly came to an abrupt halt. My best friend, the one who grounded me, the one who loved me unconditionally , the one who forced me not to work too much and smell the roses..had died.

I could barely muster the courage to decorate my Christmas tree that year. It ended up with only four ornaments on it. And the Thanksgiving decorations were still up.

The days went on and I forced myself to move on, despite my frozen heart. Again, I was so thankful for the job I had and the people there who were so sensitive to what I was feeling.

My writing called through whispers, my dreams called through pictures I saw on the internet, my Mother's voice called to me " honey, would you publish my work for me?" - those words spoken to me only a month or two before she died.

During the spring of this past year, I mustered the courage to start putting my Mom's books together. I had a lot of motivation to do it, then it suddenly stopped due to my fear of technology and wondering where I would get the cash to publish her work.

And so, I continued on , pouring my heart and soul into my job and my Airbnb business. My creativity once again, whispering to me..to come back.

Thanksgiving came this year , the first one without my Mother. It was a wonderful week, I was in the kitchen for the majority of the time, cooking up bread from scratch and several new recipes I wanted to try.I put a picture of my Mother in the window above my sink and looked at it often. My buddy, my friend, my confidant. I missed her so much and I wished my heart would thaw just a little bit .Her picture gave me comfort and a sense that she was with me in the kitchen, cheering me on, telling me "you can do this honey-I'm with you."

 
My niece and I managed to make the traditional family stuffing that is a recipe that has been handed down for generations and has never been written. Nervous that we wouldn't make it just like my Mom, we started putting in the spices gingerly at first and then we put it through the smell test just like she would do.


My brother and his wife surprised me and came home this year. I was so truly grateful that the house was full of family and that I wasn't alone. My Mom would have loved to be with all of us, as family was truly the heart of who she was.

We all knew what our thoughts were thinking and what our hearts were crying about. No one really talked about it too much, but our hearts knew.

The stuffing turned out to be a big success and the house was full of family and friends, delicious smells , way too many pies and so much love - my Mom would have been so happy. Her family was still together.

As I look back at this past year, I realize just how frozen I had become. Purposefully hiding myself in my house with my cats and my Airbnb guests, so that the familiarity of home would comfort me.

I had experienced the loss of romantic love many times in my life, I was strangely familiar with these emotions and feelings and knew how to pull myself through it.  But this one, this loss, this heartache - it was almost as if I was going through the grief but was denying it at the same time. All I can think of , is "frozen."


But now, as the one year mark of my Mother's death was approaching and the world was beginning to celebrate the Christmas season, my Mom's favorite and mine too - my creativity called yet again, only the whisper has become louder. "It's time".

Time, to move on, to live , despite the fact that would mean , I would move on without her in my physical reality. Time, to live my dreams, to create, to once again, climb mountains as I normally do (says my Mother).

And so,  I created a plan for decorating my house, as my Mother would have as well. I focused my creativity there and I begin to write my morning pages once again. My Mom and I would call each other and confer on our Christmas decor themes and talk about cookies, shopping, gift ideas.

I foolishly thought this would stop the pain my heart has felt over the loss of my Mother. It has somewhat, but the week soon approached that would mark one year of her death.

It was hard, no question. And I have cried over things I never would have before - I even cried twice in front of my boss this week. I tell myself - "it's ok."

The dreaded morning came. December 10th. And I cried and the tears wouldn't stop coming. But through the tears , I heard my Mom say - get up , stop crying and go to spin class- you will feel better. I cried a bit more and the inner voice of my Mother, said "GO TO SPIN CLASS!" even louder. And so, I wiped my tears and went to spin class. I felt a lot better afterwards . My Mom always knew how to make me feel better. She knew that I love the gym .

My brother , his wife and I spent the afternoon together, doing simple things - going to one of my favorite local chocolate stores and our local grocery store. We talked about my Mom, a little bit, not too much. We knew where our hearts were. It was enough just to be together.

And the night of December 10th came with a Christmas shopping trip to the mall with a favorite girlfriend and going home to two of my favorite Airbnb guests. A father and his adopted daughter. They were asleep when I got home, but the excitement of seeing them in the morning, lifted my spirits.

I made it through that day, December 10th and woke up to a little 5 years  old voice saying "good morning " to me with the biggest smile. Life was good, all was going to be ok and my Mom was here, with me - saying, "see honey, everything is ok, you love your Airbnb - look at that little one that I sent you knowing exactly what you needed."

I know in my heart , "it's time." It's time to move forward, to live the dreams I have so yearned for and that my Mom would have wanted for me.The dream of publishing novels, my Mother's works, my blog posts and others more personal, that I don't care to share here.


I listen to the whispers of my Mother, who tells me she loves me and who tells me that it's time to move on, no matter how much it hurts and start living my dreams, because that is who I am, "I climb mountains of dreams."

The Magic of Ordinary Days

I saw the trailer for a movie with this title on Hallmark Channel. It struck me.I have been thinking about it most the night.

Most of us take our daily life for granted. The daily ritual of feeding our animals, getting the mail out of the mailbox, throwing in a load of laundry, kissing your spouse goodbye as they head to work.

But aren't these life's little treasures? If someone told you that you would soon die, would you not cherish these little moments and see them through different eyes?

The movie was about a love story of a pregnant woman in the 1800's who was from a wealthy family and she was sent to marry a man she didn't even know . The story actually ends up to be a beautiful one, with a happy ending. Of course, I like it, because I love happy endings.

As I contemplated this through a night where sleep was not coming to me, I thought of a man I recently met on a dating site. Our first date was for coffee. I am not thrilled about coffee dates, I find them really awkward. However, this one turned out to be a surprise . He was one of the most unique people I have met in quite some time. We ended up taking a walk on Main Street through a town called Williamsville and enjoyed the warm, summer evening together. The conversation was interesting and enjoyable - a far cry from a lot of first dates that I have had.  I went to bed smiling, finally a man who peaked my interest both intellectually and physically.

Our next date turned out to be a walk in the park with his dog, Annabelle , a sweet German Shephard, watching fireworks from afar so the dog wouldn't be frightened and getting ice cream afterwards.

I couldn't think of a more perfect summertime date. He was a perfect gentleman and no, it wasn't some elaborate restaurant , it wasn't a drink at a bar - it was a simple walk to enjoy the night sky , with a dog a man and some ice cream. But, I was so happy. Ordinary and simple.

Sadly, it turns out that he isn't ready to enter into a relationship, but the gift of this simple date is something I will cherish.

As I think about dating and "finding your soulmate" - isn't it the magic of ordinary things, enjoying the simplicity of life together that really matters?

Isn't it the small things in life that really create our magic? I think of another man I dated during college who surprised me by dropping off a card and a candy bar in my car overnight to say that he was thinking about me, loved me and would be there for me through my parents divorce. That has always stuck in my mind.

It is these things , these everyday, simple things that we need to cherish. Yes, the trips we take on our bucket list, graduations and weddings are wonderful celebrations to be remembered.

But I ask you, if you were to have another few months, wouldn't you cherish, seeing the moon in your kitchen window , see the flowers bloom in your garden and the smiles of those you love?

A special thank you to the man who I strolled in the park with, along with his dog and enjoyed the ice cream on this Fourth of July. You gave me back the gift of magic in ordinary days.

Love and Light,
Kimberley

Perfectionism is Fear in High Heeled Shoes and a Mink Coat

I just have to laugh at this title for today's blog. I wish I had come up with it, but I didn't. Elizabeth Gilbert did. And as many of you know, she is one of m all time favorite writers and teachers of all things creative.

So, she has a Creativity Class on Udemy whereby you can pay a very affordable price to hear her speak on the creative process. I guess she is kind of like Julia Cameron, who wrote The Artist's Way.

I paid for the class and have been listening to her lectures for a few days now. And some I listen to multiple times. This particular lecture spoke to me greatly because I suffer from this personality trait. I have for a very long time and I realize now that this very thing has stopped me from publishing my work.

You, see I wrote a novel , several years ago now and I have been desperately trying to get through the editing process which I find to be grueling and tedious and not so much fun. I do find creating the characters and the book, much more tantalizing. I have allowed this editing process to stop me from publishing this book that I once held so dear to my heart. I still do ..but it's time now to let "my butterfly" go.

It's time to let it go out in the world and let people read it , even if I am afraid that it isn't "good enough" or that I am going to get criticized for being the worst writer ever or that my grammar is bad or something is horribly awful in this book that I slaved over six years to write through a lot of "life stuff" .

But, I have to remind myself - "it's my butterfly." It was created in my mind only and no one else's. It was created totally by me. And although, it might not be as perfect as the monarch butterfly looks as God has so perfectly created each of his creatures -it's still my creation that I loved and cared for and nurtured and gave all my energy to for all those years.

This is the very essence of what Elizabeth Gilbert teaches in this lecture - that perfectionism is just a classy word for fear and we must recognize that and not allow it to stop birthing our creative works.

For what if, what if, someone was truly moved by what you wrote, or what you photographed or sculpted or whittled out of wood? What if you somehow changed their life by your work? And what if, you never showed the world that "butterfly" and that person was never to see it and have their life forever changed?

You don't have to start off thinking - I am going to write the next Harry Potter or paint on the ceiling of Sistine Chapel - you just have to create your own "butterfly" , whatever that is and give yourself permission to let it go out into the world and let people think whatever they want. It doesn't matter - it's yours and only yours and you need to go on and create more of what is yours and share those gifts with the world.

So, be grateful for the fear, say thank you, I know you are there, but we will be moving on now. I wouldn't take off the high heels - because those are super fun to wear and come in so many colors and textures! But maybe just maybe! You could wear them AND paint and write with them on!





Love and Light,
Kimberley

The Dark Night of the Soul

The Dark Night of the Soul...when that person you love so much and who loves you just as much dies..

 it's as if this blanket or shadow overcomes your being and your inner world shuts down and you want so desperately to shut everyone out. The pain is more excruciating than you ever imagined it could be. You don't know how you will ever feel good again. Will my life always feel this way from this point forward? Will I feel happy at some point in the near future? Will I survive this? Will I feel what joy feels like ever again?

The short answer? The darkness lasts as long as you need to grieve.. but I pray you , please don't let that darkness overshadow you to the extent that you too feel like you need to take your own life because the pain is too much to bear.

As we look at the natural world, the night does turn into day, the moon gives way to the sun. And eventually the many Dark Nights of our Soul will turn into seconds and minutes of Lightness of our Hearts.

The death of my Mother has changed my world as I knew it. Only a few short months ago.  It just stopped me in my tracks and has felt like my whole life has been put on hold.

I felt stuck and still do to a certain degree. It's as if someone cemented my feet to the ground and took away my motivation and zest for life that I once had.

But as I write this I feel like maybe just maybe this wasn't a bad thing. Perhaps this was all part of a Universal plan to get me refocused on a pathway that is better than the one I was mapping out for myself.

I am not sure what that pathway looks like right now so I am taking one day at a time. It's all I can handle. And I stay close to my family. For it is in them, I feel her. And my soul doesn't feel so dark when I am near them.

My Mom would be proud that we have stuck together through this time - very little to no drama.. just tears and memories.. and holding hands, trying to deal with the grief.

It is in these times of the darkness that we see the light - the light of my great nephew Dylan's smile and his desire to keep trying to walk, the light of the laughter we share driving in a van on the way home from my Mom's, the light of the birds that sang on her property as we scattered her ashes under her favorite tree where her dog is buried, the light of the sun coming up, the light of long time friends sending you a smile.

To all those out there feeling the sadness and grief of the death of someone you dearly love - know that the Darkness does become light.. one step at a time, one day at a time and the time frame becomes different for all of us.

I remind myself everyday to look at the Light and to acknowledge the Darkness but I try not to let it linger too much as it draws me back into the abyss.. at first when my Mom died.that was the majority of my days.. the darkness of the abyss.. but now.. it shows itself in some portion of my day and doesn't last all day - thank God..

My love to all of you out there experiencing the Dark Night of the Soul - here is to the Light that shines within! Look for it - it's there!

Love and Light,
Kimberley

I Hear the Birds Singing Today

I Hear the Birds Singing Today...

The birds that have decided to surround my house with companionship and love..

I Hear the Birds Singing Today...

The birds that my Mother loved so much...

I Hear the Birds Singing Today..

They are filled with joy..

I Hear the Birds Singing Today..

They warm my heart..

I Hear the Birds Singing Today..

My Mother's spirit in Flight..