Kerri On Down The Road

 The first time the concept of granting oneself a permission slip entered my world was while reading "Untamed" by Glennon Doyle.  The idea was beautiful in its simplicity: instead of waiting for someone else to give us permission to do things we wanted to do, we could take ownership of granting this permission to ourselves.  Genius!  For someone like me, who tends to play by the rules and has all too often waited for someone to give the nod before I move forward in life, this was potentially game-changing.  My incorporation of this idea was often subtle: instead of ruminating over what others might think of me trying x, y, or z, I would just take a deep breath and go for it, reminding myself that I didn't need anyone else to give me permission to do so.  It felt freeing and exhilarating to take life by the horns (sometimes) and explore the unknown. Of course, I am a first-born Virgo, so these forays into the "unknown" were often rather premeditated and did ...

 When you look back at past decisions, especially ones where you would like a do-over, what lens do you look through?  One of reproach, identifying your choice as a mistake and reprimanding yourself for not having done things differently, or maybe there is rumination about what could have been if only.  I tend to land somewhere in between these two approaches, not allowing much grace for circumstance and other factors that often influence difficult choices. That is, until I was introduced to a new way of thinking about things.  A friend and I were discussing the feelings that accompany revisiting hard decisions, agreeing that we often see things so much differently once we have had some time and space to reevaluate surrounding circumstances.  She shared that looking at these situations from the viewpoint of " Oh, damn" was a good way of changing how we move forward.  Instead of berating ourselves and ruminating, "Oh, damn" allows us to acknowledge that we m...

 All it took was rehousing my digital piano.  The digital piano had been sitting quietly, unused, in my makeshift gym/storage room, a reminder of times past and a hobby that I had moved on from.  I had casually tried to find it a new home, once I knew for certain that I would not be returning to lessons, nor would I casually be sitting down and plunking away at it out of the blue.  I was thrilled when a friend showed interest and felt joy as I handed it over to its new owners.  As I returned home and looked in the storage room, I felt a sense of possibility wash over me.  Maybe it was time to make a bigger change. It's funny how quickly we become used to the status quo - the way they are is just the way they are. Sometimes it just takes a small shift to open us up to bigger changes. Once the piano was gone, I started to think more about that room - could I find a better way to make use of the space?  What could change look like?  Turns out, change...

Recently, I was chatting with a friend about life, noticing how looking back at the past can sometimes make us question the choices we have made.  What seemed to make sense when we were in the thick of a situation doesn't always hold up when we have a better perspective of the bigger picture.  Looking back at our past selves allows us to be more critical of who we were and provides the opportunity to either beat ourselves up or learn lessons that will shape our future behaviours, and can be counterproductive if we start to ruminate and become stuck in the past.  As we continued to talk, she turned to me and said, "Timing is everything", which felt so simple and yet so true. Who we are is only relevant in the current moment.  We are ever-changing and evolving beings on a physical, emotional, and spiritual level.  How we approach a situation will not be the same if we are faced with it today versus a few days from now, and will likely be different from how we saw ...