July 18, 2024
 
Today is a significant day for me. And I fully appreciate that no one else likely understands why. I wouldn’t expect them to. It’s not so much that today is a Thursday. In fact, the day of the week has no relevance, whatsoever. But ten years ago today, at approximately 11 o’clock in the morning, my world shifted in a monumental way. On that perfectly lovely Squamish morning, in the middle of July, I irreversibly altered the very fabric of my family’s existence. July 18, 2014 was the day my family of five became a family of four.
 
Standing in the sunshine that day, with a gentle breeze blowing wisps of hair around my tanned face, I looked my (then) husband in the eye and declared I could no longer live with him. With a shaking voice, I stated I could no longer live with the man whose behaviour had become so unpredictable (yet too predictable in many other ways). I essentially said I’d had enough of being the focus of his bad moods and bad perspectives and all the turmoil in our lives. 
 
At the end of that fateful conversation, he walked down the street, alone, in one direction, while I walked, with head held high, in the opposite direction. By standing my ground, by standing up (finally) for Me, I pulled the proverbial rug out from under his feet, turning his world instantly upside down yet, at the same instant, landing myself, and my three cherished children, on the most solid ground we could ever have hoped to stand.
 
It’s easy with words, in a couple of sentences, to make a gruelling and heart-wrenching process seem so effortless. But let me tell you, the past ten years have been anything but easy. The emotional reckoning and healing was, at times, excruciating. At other times, heartbreaking and soul-wounding. Lots of anger was felt and many, many, many tears were shed. But through it all, I had (and continue to have) the overwhelming joy of being a constantly available mother for my three adult children, with a string of absolutely amazing girlfriends at the ready. From my own side of the family, from my parents and older sister, I’ve received only unquestioning love and support.
 
Besides the angst, the past decade has also been a thrilling ride of freedom, self-discovery and self-fulfillment. I know for certain what makes me happy and most definitely know when to draw the line in the sand. Putting it simply, I don’t take anything, from anyone, anymore. But most of the time, I try to smile and laugh as much as possible because Life really is just so awesomely beautiful and wonderful.
 
In recognition of all that transpired since this day in 2014, I’m going to do nice things for myself. My toenails need a fresh coat of fire-engine red polish and I definitely need to get into the lake for a swim (or two, or three). Somewhere, at some point, there will no doubt be a glass of wine and some chocolate, too!
 
Happy 10th Anniversary to Me! Here’s to what Life will offer up in the future.

​P.S. Couldn't resist including more photos from last month's Rocky Mountain holiday!

Note To Readers: This is a long one!

Oh, the joy, the bliss, the pure heavenly delight of being off-grid, of unplugging. Of being totally and utterly beyond the communication reach of the rest of the world. To put it simply, to unplug is divine.
 
To be in the Rockies for ten days (yes, that’s where I went last month!), five of which were completely without cell / internet technology at my fingertips, was the BEST possible gift I could ever have given myself.
 
Have you ever unplugged? Taken yourself somewhere where you cannot scroll endlessly and aimlessly for seconds, minutes, hours? Where your mobile phone is pretty much useless (except for taking photos)? Have you been somewhere where no one else can reach you (and vice versa)? Well, besides being incommunicado for seven years while sailing the Pacific, last month’s holiday was my first such removal from society in a good long while. And, what it did for my soul and mind was tremendous!
 
The best day of all was spent entirely on the deck of the lovely log cabin I’d checked myself into (bad English, I know). At 7:30am, I sat down in a wooden Adirondack chair with a steaming cup of coffee, binoculars, journal and a couple of books scattered about on the armrests. By noon, I moved around the corner to the wooden bench swing. Throughout the entire day, all I did was watch Mother Nature pass through the mountains, looked and listened for birds, read chapter after chapter of the most amazing books (Woman, Watching by Merilyn Simonds and Bird By Bird  by Anne Lamott) and had a couple of short naps. Oh yes, and wrote plenty in my journal. By 5 o’clock in the afternoon, the weather turned nasty and I retreated inside the cabin to continue watching through the living room’s big picture window. I had spent nine hours on the deck. It was FANTASTIC!
 
 
What had me mystified, however, was the massive upwelling of emotion. I knew I was exhausted but when I stopped at the first mountain vista I came upon driving to my destination on the first day, I felt like sobbing like a child. Where exactly was this emotion coming from? Why was I feeling this way? On my final day at the cabin I took myself for a good long walk in the forest to try to figure it out. One of my favourite things to say is ‘take it to the forest, ‘cuz the forest can take it’. Down the trail I went, seeking out the solace and wisdom of the trees.
 
 
The next day, it all came to a head. Driving further into Kootenay and Banff National Parks, I stopped and started at several different lookouts. The weather was testy and a lot of the time I just sat in my Jeep, staring out at the mountains in front of me, breathing in all their strength and magnificence (and fondly remembering all the trails I’d hiked along in years past). One particular stop did me in. Completely.
 
As the rain had eased off, I got out of my vehicle and walked out to the view point. In seconds, tears welled up from the depths. I moved a few paces along, to the far end of the viewing platform, to get away from the handful of people also there. And then it all came bubbling up. The sobs burst forth and tears ran down my face. I was standing at Morant’s Curve, on the Bow Valley Parkway, looking across at three separate valleys where I had hiked the vast majority of the trails. A couple of minutes into this total emotional meltdown, I finally recognized where all of these tears were coming from.
 
For five years, I lived amongst these mountains, building a post-divorce life for myself. I found myself a really good job there and when I wasn’t working, I was out in the mountains and on the trails exploring to my heart’s content. I was so incredibly happy in that world. And I had only myself to thank for it.

But my current world is different, geography and work-wise. I don’t feel that same exhilaration. And that bums me out. Hence, the tears. But I realized that, throughout my life, I built so many incredible worlds for myself. And I’m not done. Not by a long shot. I may not quite have this current world figured out yet, but I will. At some point. I just have to be patient with this transition, until everything becomes more focused.
 
The other monumental realization pertained to my book, my memoir, which isn’t going anywhere at the moment. After seven years of emotional reckoning, writing, re-writing, adding and editing, the manuscript is at a complete standstill. I’m getting absolutely nothing from the interested publishers and am really questioning if I have it in me to keep going. Perhaps I should spend my time doing something else. What, after all, do I really want to achieve? I’m frustrated. I’m frazzled. And I’m honestly questioning if I really want to keep pursuing this particular goal. Consuming me was the angst that it may be time to just let this whole memoir thing go.
 
Once I figured all of this out, still standing at the viewpoint, totally soaked in my own tears, I drove up the Icefields Parkway and sat at a quiet spot and sipped some tea. I was knackered. Emotional reckoning was an exhausting business. Fortunately, I was in the best possible place I could be to let it all out. I slept so well that night in my tent!
 
Now don’t go feeling sorry for me. This is not the time to say 'Poor Deb'. I needed to go through those emotions. I needed to admit them, out loud, to myself so I can properly deal with them and figure out what steps to take next. The beauty of unplugging, and not being distracted by technology, was that I could give myself the time to wind down naturally, to let my thoughts and feelings roam where they wanted and needed to roam. There was nothing holding them back and I was happy to set them free.
 
Since being back in my apartment, doing my daily things, and away from the mountains, I do feel a lot more settled in some respects. In others, I’m still trying to figure out what to do about my life, my writing and this whole notion of a ‘book’.
 
What I do know for certain, no matter what’s going on in my life, is that, in the Rockies, I can always feel whatever I need to feel. It is a safe place, a happy place, for me to be. It's where I also know that I will always find peace. To have such inner knowledge is pure gold.

Enjoy some photographic highlights below of my favourite place in the whole wide world.

Thanks for reading.

​xo

​Tomorrow morning I head out of town … for ten glorious responsible-only-for-me days. To top it all off, I’m heading to my most favourite place in the whole wide world.
 
For those who know me, I mean, really know me, you’ll know exactly where I’m heading. For those who know me only through my blog, you might venture a guess. Here, however, is a hint: I’m driving (not flying … so that kinda rules out Scotland and/or Italy!) and my vehicle is full of camping gear.
 
That’s it. That’s all you get! Well, except for the teaser photo coming up at the end.
 
Where I’m going there is no internet, no cell service, no ‘grid’ amenities whatsoever. I get to tap out, unplug and disconnect myself from the outside world and (hopefully, at least this is the plan) to connect entirely with myself, my emotions, my thoughts and the staggeringly beautiful natural world that will surround me. After all, that’s what holidays are for, right?
 
The original intent of this getaway was to hole up in a comfortable place and write, write, write. Draft 5 of my memoir needed isolated focus and dedication. Then, about a month ago, a huge emotional curveball knocked me off my feet that still has my mind in a spin. I have not yet taken the time to fully reconcile this new revelation (and, it’s a biggie … see previous blog entries). Because of this, my emotional stability and overall level of energy are currently walking two very thin lines.
 
Add to that, a very busy three months of contract work, parental care, moving from one apartment to another and an out of the blue yet heartfelt suggestion, presented by a trusted friend and colleague in the book world, about my own writing project.
 
Can I scream any louder that ‘I need a break!’?
 
So, first thing tomorrow morning, at the crack of dawn with the robins singing their little hearts out into the fresh, dewy air, I will hop into my Jeep and drive eastward. It’s been a couple of years since I drove this very familiar route and I know exactly where I will stop along the way before reaching my ultimate destination.
 
For five nights I will luxuriate in remote wilderness bliss, contemplating the world and my writing from a secluded log cabin surrounded by easily accessible trails and mind-blowing vistas. Then, for the next five nights, I’ll hop around to different campgrounds, laughing and giggling and chattering endlessly with different girlfriends, filling my soul to the brim and beyond with those elements of life I value most (besides my children, who are doing their own things!).
 
Tonight, before falling asleep, I’ll be switching my phone into Airplane mode and there it will remain for 10 days. I will not be checking emails, nor texts, nor social media platforms. I may have to make one telephone call to coordinate one specific girlfriend rendezvous, but other than that, as far as the world is concerned, I will be completely and utterly unavailable. I can hardly wait.
 
So, dear readers, here's to much needed holidays, and the new journals we pack along with us.
 
See ya in 10 days’ time!