So consider this the first thousand words about me.
Well . . . the second thousand.
The first thousand words were on the Home Page where I placed my all-time favourite photo of me, surrounded by my husband and sons at a friend's wedding.
Considering things like first impressions and the need to look perfect, what else would I put on the Home Page?
The photo on the top of this page is my most current likeness, taken by my son on an impromptu photo shoot. (That was a fun day!)
But all of these 'best face forward' considerations got me thinking -- there are so many aspects to a person and one photo can never capture them all.
I contain multitudes!
And so do you. (Please remember that. Especially when you find yourself unable to see past whatever less-than-your-full-self version is taking centre stage at the moment.)
So . . . in light of all that . . . and just for fun . . .
I love the poise and strength and clear-eyed confidence of the little girl I once was.
I hope, in this lifetime, to return to that innocent knowledge of my inherent goodness and worth.
And to help others remember their own.
And just a wee bit exhausted.
I think not!
Not for a while yet, anyway.
I'm not nearly wise enough
to wear that mantle.
I'm adding another aspect to this 'trilogy' -- the one who straddles hands-on motherhood and the ancient wisdom of the Wise Ones.
I hereby dub her Warrioress!
I was a monitrice for two years at the University of Regina's Summer Language Bursary Program. (And then a teacher on the program for two more.)
Along with planning outings and activities for the Québécois students who had come to learn English, I was 'house mother' to a group of young women. They (along with some of the young men) gifted me with this t-shirt at the end of the six weeks.
Mother of Love.
They saw it in me, even then.
I guess I was destined for motherhood.
In all its forms.
It was taken to showcase my chipmunk cheeks after major dental work. (Don't ask me why that needed to be documented.)
But I'm glad we did. For the purposes of this 'gallery,' it handily represents all kinds of pain: physical, mental, emotional, spiritual.
I haven't had to endure a lot of physical pain in the course of my life, but I'm intimately familiar with the others.
One of the gifts that came from navigating those challenges was the capacity to Listen . . .
. . . to the fictional stories wanting to come through me on to the page . . .
. . . and for the stories of others, longing to be voiced and heard and gently held.
I love to play dress up!
From flappers to clowns, film stars to Hallowe'en hags. Any excuse to wear a costume.
This was my favourite.
Isis driving through the city with the windows down on a warm, non-Hallowe'en night.
Isis at the stoplight, cooly regarding the staring occupants of the neighbouring car.
Isis announcing her presence on the doorstep, so in touch with her High Priestess nature that my friend, the Goddess party organizer, had no idea who was beneath the wig.
"Isis has arrived."
So much fun!
Thank you, Stephen, for your unwavering love and support all these years. And thank you, Gabriel and Jacob, for the magic and meaning you have brought to our lives.
I would not be who I am, offering what I know, had I not been given the privilege of walking this world with you.
Have a beautiful day.