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This Post Will Be Mostly Meaningless to Everyone But Me

In the midst of an overly busy week (work, freelance assignments) was able to (mostly) check off three action items for my as-of-yet-unnamed-writing project: • I identified women I want to interview for my profiles and reached out to some of them.  • I also created a spreadsheet with their contact info, so I'm putting the pieces together. • I found three IG accounts to follow for photographic inspiration, as I want my project to include and be promoted through a photojournalistic perspective. I also did go to yoga on the weekend, and I made 8 hours of sleep a priority. But I'm pretty squeezed this week . . . having to really fight for any alone time or downtime. Same old story that has held me back for so long. So, this week, I really have to/want to make self-care the top priority because it's at risk of falling to the wayside. Without that foundation, everything else will suffer; history has shown that.  With that in mind, my three items this we

On "Laziness"

I've been pondering laziness quite a bit lately as I explore what low iron and adrenal fatigue mean—and, of course, lifelong depression. For so many years I've thought I just needed to "kick my own ass" or "try harder" or "smarten up," but finding momentum for my life, at the pace of my own rhythm, has actually never been positively or sustainably affected by such approaches. Turns out I've needed more of . . . something. Maybe more rest. More nutrition. More nurturing. More time. More healing. More support. Any number of things. When I've struggled, it hasn't been about me being fundamentally faulty. This is a huge thing to ponder, a massive perspective shift. This article came my way today via social media and speaks to much of this topic.

Being here now so I can move forward

As a woman of size—a middle-aged woman of size, no less—I often struggle with being marginalized, being seen (or, more accurately, unseen) as invisible, viewed with discrimination, even. And sometimes it hurts. But here's what I know right now: I'm the size I am, right here, right now, because of many physical and emotional factors over the years. My weight tells a story, if to nobody else but me. So instead of judging and berating myself for those factors, I'm listening to and nurturing myself. I'm learning the difference between desperately wanting and trying to lose weight for the sake of my health and wellbeing and understanding how my physical self is a reflection of my inner, emotional self.  There are many personal reasons (too many to describe here) why my current physical self manifests as it does but thankfully I have connected with mentors and a supportive network who show me daily how to sink into my strength for emotional and physical healing. What tha

Granny's Vintage Teapot

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The vintage Staffordshire English teapot by Gibsons, which my late granny gave me years ago, became even more of a treasure when she died two years ago.  Her last words to me were "Are you making tea?"  I wasn't—I was actually just opening up a can of ginger ale.  Knowing what I know now, I wish that I'd answered, "Yes, Granny, I am making tea."

Tea-rotica and High Tea at the Empress Hotel

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It's not often that I go to a world-class, upscale tourist destination, but today was a bit different: Niche Magazine hosted an afternoon tea and fashion show event  at the Empress Hotel ; a portion of each ticket sold offered support to the BC Children's Hospital Foundation. And because I adore fancy tea situations, and don't find myself in nearly enough of them, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. Goodies at the Empress Hotel, November 30, 2014 Now, because of my late grandmother's lifelong tea-loving ways, I've sentimental feelings for super-floral china tea cups and teapots. But I am by no means a tea aficionado—I just like a good Orange Pekoe, a fancy tea pot, and Granny-type cups and saucers. Add a few dainty sandwiches with the crusts cut off, arrange them on a tiered tray, and I get giddy. Accordingly, I spend a lot of time on Pinterest collecting images of what I call tea-rotica, and have a little cup and saucer at home that I use ritualistic

Season Change, Without and Within

I'll be forty-five in a couple of months, and as the days and weeks inch closer to my birthday, I feel a deep, significant shift taking place. The undercurrents have been there for at least a year, but I feel it more strongly as the season's changed. Leah's moving out again, and Daniel is gearing up for graduation in less than a year and is moving towards his own independence. Emotionally, I feel great—and how could I not with such a terrific partner? In love, I couldn't ask for more; in fact, I feel almost guilty for how fortunate I am. But even with my most fundamental needs met, I feel mentally and creatively restless. I'm thinking about going back to school, but I'm not sure for what exactly. I know I need more education, though. I want to power up. I'm not sure what that means precisely. When I consider education, I want to stoke what lights a fire in my belly, soak up knowledge, expand my understanding, and then go out into the world and apply it.

Coming Out As Fat

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This past weekend, one of my three younger sisters invited me to join her on a float in our city's Pride parade this weekend. It was, of course, fabulous to the extreme—especially since my sibling had recently won the title as the exquisite Mr. Gay Vancouver Island (in her drag king incarnation as Eddi Licious). She honoured me by asking me to participate with her. I've been a lover of Pride festivities for years. I've enjoyed them in Montréal and Toronto, and find the celebrations here in Victoria to be particularly charming for reasons that are hard to articulate. Maybe it's because the crowds are smaller; the participants, too, seem so legitimately joyful, and not at all jaded. So when I was invited to be on an actual float in a parade that would take me throughout the downtown core in full view of a large population, I decided to go for it, no holds barred. I have a not-so-latent drag queen living inside of me, as evidenced by my passion for all things sparkly and