Kerri On Down The Road

 When I was younger, I would rather drive or walk in circles than stop and ask for directions.  This was, of course, before we held the power of maps in our hands everywhere we went, so unless you had the foresight to print a map and carry it with you, you could find yourself at the mercy of the kindness of strangers.  It felt embarrassing to admit I had no idea where I was or where I was going, and my embarrassment, coupled with stubbornness, often led me to take the long way to most places.  Later on, it felt like a flip had taken place, and I started looking for external confirmation that I was going in the "right" direction, never feeling entirely certain I had chosen the right path and relying on others' opinions to guide me.  Of course, this happened both literally and figuratively as I began along my life's path, trying to decipher the road ahead of me.  Even now, despite years of lived experience, I can find myself at times afraid to fully rely on m...

Strength is one of those words that can mean different things to different people.  For some, it may conjure images of muscle-bound bodybuilders or sinewy ultra runners who travel farther on foot than many of us care to drive.  For others, it brings to mind character traits that are more internal than external. I found myself contemplating what strength means to me as I rode my bike home from the gym one day last week.  I've started riding more this season and find myself hopping on my city bike to get to and from the gym when time allows.  I love the feeling of freedom I have on my bike, and it doesn't hurt that the way to the gym includes a lovely downhill section.  Of course, what that means is that there's an equally steep climb to conquer on the way home, post-workout.   As I started the climb, my legs began to question my bike-riding logic, and I quietly reminded myself that I am strong and capable and would make it up the hill.  That's when...

As I sit at my desk, staring out the window, trying to collect my thoughts, I am struck by the many transitions and changes that seem to arrive at this time of year.  Summer is slowly drawing to a close, with the light casting longer shadows early in the mornings and sunsets creeping earlier each night.  Schools are preparing to open their doors once again, and there is an underlying sense of routine and responsibilities returning to centre stage.  While some of these changes may feel welcome and are eagerly anticipated, there is also an accompanying melancholy for the passing of what was.  It is hard to feel the ease of summer sliding by, only to be replaced by the heavier feelings that often come with late fall and winter.   What is it about this annual shift from summer to fall that feels so hard? One would think that as we get older and experience this over and over again, we would become accustomed to it, yet that doesn't seem to be the case.  It ...

 Lately, I've been in a space of contemplation and evaluation.  Well, let's be honest, I'm often in that space.  What's been different about this recent round of reflection is something I happened across quite by accident.  With last week's full moon and lunar eclipse, there were many astrological reels to examine online, and I happily went down many of these rabbit holes.  One tarot reading I watched really stood out to me. It wasn't so much the nuances regarding Virgo season that caught my attention, as many of the messages being shared were ones I was already aware of.  The part that grabbed me was about decisions being made or changed as a result of the shifting energy surrounding the new astrological season we are entering. As the tarot reader moved through the cards she had drawn, explaining how they might manifest, she mentioned that the cards were indicating changes and new decisions being made.  She emphasized that, just because changes would ...

 Over the past few years, I have been working toward my BA in Psychology, taking courses through a distance-learning program.  It's been interesting and challenging to return to school as a mature student, and I have enjoyed the learning curve (for the most part).  When I was in high school, I completed my mandatory science credits by the end of my second year and did not feel compelled to pursue further study.  Instead, I focused my mind on more arts-based courses, such as English and music. Fast-forward thirty years, and I find myself immersed in courses that are very science-based, with no option but to embrace this discipline. What I discovered is that despite my many misgivings, I quite enjoy the scientific method of looking at things.  I like the very fact-based and logical lens that science has us look through.  Lately I've been thinking about how I can apply some of these same principles to my life as I examine the direction I'm moving toward. ...

When was the last time you witnessed a young child being denied something they firmly believed was theirs?  Whether it was a turn to press the elevator button, a cold treat on a hot afternoon, or simply a specific item that they had their eye on, they do not let their disappointment in being denied go unnoticed.  At work, I often witness these events and am always curious to see how they unfold; remembering all too well what it was like to work in child care settings and to have young children of my own to navigate these touchy moments with.  I remember the embarrassment when disapproving eyes cast their gaze my way as one or both of my young ones aired their grievances publicly, and how I felt the need to try to shush or diffuse the situation, rushing their process along. It was difficult to witness them moving through hard feelings, especially because these moments seemed to last forever.  As an adult, there are times when I would love nothing more than to be able ...

 Have you ever been at a point in your life where you feel like all the work and focus are starting to pay off, and you can visualize and sometimes even feel that things are starting to fall into place?  There are days when you are certain that what you have been waiting for is just around the corner, just a little more patience on your part, and you'll be "there".  The excitement is palpable; your anticipation increases despite telling yourself to hold on and not get ahead of yourself.  And then reality checks in.   It's not that you're nowhere near where you want to be; it's just that you aren't quite as close to your destination as you had hoped and believed you were. Sigh. What happens next?  How do you handle the feeling of being so close and yet so far? This is something I'm nudging up against in a few areas of my life lately, and I have to admit, I am not sure there is a way to handle these feelings without adding to the rollercoaster ride of em...

 A question that often comes up in coaching sessions centres on knowing when to make a change.  I am someone who likes to believe they have a good sense of future outcomes and some sort of control over how things will work out.  Yes, I realize that this is not the case at all, and yet it is something I tend to cling to.  What this futile belief results in is "analysis paralysis" or inaction due to the sense of overwhelm that comes with potentially making the wrong decision.  It's not that a decision can't be undone and a new choice made in its place; it's that I often feel uncomfortable with the idea of needing to go through that process.  A coach once likened life to walking in a forest and needing to choose the trails we take on our journey.  She asked me how far down a wrong path I would go before turning around and retracing my steps.  In this scenario, I knew that I wouldn't allow myself to go too far before making the decision to try a new d...

 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 ...

 Raise your hand if you like to engage in what I call "The Grocery Bag Challenge".  For those who are unsure, let me explain.  The Grocery Bag Challenge is what takes place when you open the trunk of your car, after a full grocery shop, and look at the many bags lying there, and decide with complete determination that no matter what, you are carrying them ALL in one trip and one trip only.  It doesn't matter how awkward or difficult that one trip may turn out to be; it is going to happen if you have anything to say about it.   Sometimes you may need to regroup partway to your front door, due to bag handle slippage or your hand going numb, and that's okay, it still counts as long as you pick all of the bags back up and continue on your way.  For most of us, this usually plays out in a win - we huff and puff and silently (or not so silently) curse under our breath until we can dump all of our cargo on the kitchen floor with a resounding exhale of held br...

 I've been feeling a shift in energy and perspective lately, and it has left me thinking about how I've been living life, the direction I'm going in, and what really matters.  Sounds heavy, I'll admit, and perhaps it's just the typical thoughts that come to mind as we enter the second half of the year.  Today marks the Summer solstice, a time when we celebrate the longest day of the year, and all the sun's energy brings to our lives and the world around us.  While the summer tends to be a time when we feel more energized and are often more active, I've been feeling a call for quite the opposite lately.  I've been feeling a desire to slow down and spend less energy while I recalibrate and decide if I'm still heading in the right direction.   It's not that the goals I have set for myself are any less attractive or desirable; it's more about the method of reaching them and whether that still feels true to who I am and who I wish to become. For t...

 Today marks the end of my spring semester and the start of some downtime before my summer course begins. For the first time in a long time, I felt bittersweet when I hit submit on my final assignment, marking the end of the course; I was going to miss the coursework and learning I had grown accustomed to for the past six weeks.  This was not the experience I had when I closed out the winter semester or the fall semester prior.  The sense of relief and unburdening I experienced was immense; I knew I needed the downtime to prepare for the next courses on my schedule, and instead of savouring the days, I clung to them and wished for more.  Reading this, you might wonder why in the world I would continue along a path that was causing so much discomfort and distress, and that is a valid question.  One that I had asked myself on numerous occasions along the way.  The truth of the matter is that the feeling of discomfort was something I was used to, and there was...

 Ah, the rambling path of life.  Just as we start to move forward, encountering fresh ideas and enjoying new perspectives, we suddenly find ourselves looking out at scenery that is all too familiar.  At least, this has been my experience of life, especially of late.  It's like deja-vu all over again, and again, and again. Lessons that I thought I had learned, mistakes I vowed to not repeat, all coming back in some shape or form: a reminder that there is wisdom still to be imparted.  Not that I have ever thought I'd gathered all of the knowledge I would need to carry me through the rest of my days, nor that I had nothing left to learn.  It's more the sense of being humbled by the reminders that show how much growing there is still to do. There are days when these a-ha moments feel new and exciting, until further reflection, when I realize that I have been here before, perhaps under a different context and timeline, but the underlying theme I have uncovered i...

 "Old habits die hard".  There is so much truth held within those four words.  And while thinking about habits often prompts us to reflect on indulgences in our lives we might be better off walking away from, habits come in all shapes and sizes and encompass actions that are both healthy and unhealthy. In my life, I have overcome a few of the unhealthy habits we often think about, with smoking being one of the hardest habits for me to break.  Looking back, I remember how much I looked forward to the perceived sense of release I received each time I lit up, how effortlessly it fit into my daily routine, and how big of a hole there was each time I tried to walk away from it. It was that sense of loss that kept me coming back for more, the belief that I was giving up something important in my life when I told myself that I was not going to buy another pack or bum another one off a friend.  In the end, it took having a really bad flu to break the cycle and finally f...

 I saw a meme the other day in my social media feed that stated:                              "I always trust the next chapter because I know the author". I made sure to capture the image, as it made me stop and think do I trust my next chapter?  Being the author of our personal stories is not an easy job.  Despite the feeling at times that life happens to us and we are along for the ride, we are constantly making microdecisions and choices that may seem insignificant, but carry larger ripples.  Often, the outcome of those ripples does not show itself until many chapters have passed, and we may have even forgotten all about what led us to where we have landed.   Some plot twists we are absolutely in control of, and are conscious decisions we make either in the heat of the moment or after a long, slow burn brings a big change in our lives that we may or may not feel ready to...

 I seem to be forever adding notes to my phone, items to my calendar, and due dates to my whiteboard at home:  all reminders of things I need to do, places I need to be, and what needs to get done.  This weekend, I took some time to remind myself of something more important - the person behind all those lists and due dates. It is so easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of what is happening next that we forget the why behind it all.  We lose ourselves in the doing, simply moving our way through our days, not pausing even for a moment to remember our why.  It's not our fault; life moves quickly, and we are often fighting a battle of too much to do with too little time.  It feels indulgent to slow down and connect with ourselves, and this is how we forget.   We forget who we are: our likes, dislikes, the experiences that shaped us, and our hopes for the future. We put these personal inventories on the back burner to be added to a to-do list for ano...

Anyone who knows me will agree that I am someone who tends to find comfort in feeling like I have things figured out.  I mean, who doesn't?  Feeling like the ground beneath your feet is steady and predictable brings with it a sense of confidence and ease, one less thing to worry or wonder about. It can also be limiting at times, especially if we allow ourselves to be bound to these expected outcomes. My therapist will often call me out on the practice of trying to figure things out, looking at the world through a rather binary lens of things being either this or that, and looking for the reasons and logical outcomes as a result of these conclusions.  Letting go of this aspect of control is scary, and also liberating. Lately, I have been trying to catch myself in the act of going too far into the perceived future, gently guiding my mind back to where my feet happen to be at the moment, remembering that being in the present is the only place I'm required to be.  It. Is...