I can still see the cornfield on the edge of their property in Stratford, Ontario. The dry corn husks rub against each other in the warm August wind, making a hollow, scraping sound. Looking out the picture window of my grandpa’s study at the back of their modest farm house, I admire the big yard with a stone bird bath, pigeon coop, and gazebo in the corner.

The room is dark with brown and green walls, carpet and furniture. His old leather chair and mahogany desk with the green blotter take up most of it; the pigeon racing trophies and ribbons line the shelves of the bookcase. Two TV trays wait in the corner, ready for plates of burgers and thick beef tomato slices, always with a generous amount of salt and pepper strewn across the plate. The giant grandfather clock in the corner tick-tocks with a soothing, baritone cadence.

Tiki, the black and white chihuahua, snores peacefully in his corner bed.

My grandpa walks into the room with an exaggerated swaying motion to accommodate his swollen knees, bow-legged from the pain. He’s wearing his 1950s pale blue cotton pyjamas, a matching set with buttons for the top. He exhales loudly as he sinks into his chair, taking a swig of his Johnny Walker whiskey on ice. He flashes a big smile, eyes twinkling, and points at the coop. He proudly lists off the pigeon celebrities and their accomplishments, promising to take me to the coop the next morning for a better look.

Grandma sits facing the window, staring up at the moon; she looks deep in thought. A deep frown creases her forehead, but her expression doesn’t match her soft, even voice when she speaks. She laughs at Grandpa’s joke, patting her freshly-set, silver permed hair. Her terry cloth shorts and white sandals show off her muscular legs as she crosses them. She leans back in the chair, content to let him do the talking.

The feeling is safety, warmth and belonging. I snuggle into the big chair hearing the cicadas in the distance. Seven years old and I am right at home, even if it’s just a few weeks a year.

Do you have memories of your grandparents that stay with you?

But what about when you feel lost and you want to be found? That’s a different story altogether!

Maybe you feel like you’re the supporting character in your life and wonder why literally everyone else is the main character.

Maybe you woke up one day and said, “Is this my life?”

Maybe you realize that you’ve spent so long abandoning yourself for everyone else that you’ve actually gone missing.

I’ve circled this drain many times and I know the particular pain of not knowing who you truly are. When you strip away the helping, the fixing, the people-pleasing, the generosity, the lifetime of considering others and the efforting, who is left?

Who is the midlife woman staring at you in the mirror? What does she want?

If this feels like you, then I’m glad you’re here! I’m starting a small, live group experience to walk you through my 4 stage framework together using journaling and Gen X fun vibes! After nearly two decades helping women in personal development and healing, I’ve got your back. This is the perfect antidote to that lost feeling, because it’s the map back home to your true self.

LOST AND FOUND: A FOUR WEEK LIVE JOURNALING JOURNEY TO RECLAIM YOUR MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY

So, if you’re awake but standing in a life you don’t recognize, comment below for the details!

When I first started talking about Reiki and my experiences leading up to becoming a Reiki Teacher, circa 2008, nobody had heard of it.

“I’m a Reiki practitioner.”

Blank stare.

These interactions triggered my insecurities. Describing Reiki was new to me at the time, and it seemed very ethereal and mysterious. So, rather than stumble my way through explaining what it was, I assumed that nobody understood me or they were judging me, so I stopped talking about it (except to my clients and students of course!).

Fast forward to 2026:

“I’m a Reiki teacher.”

“Cool! I love Reiki.”

Or even better:

“So am I!”

How times have changed!

However, I have to be careful not to swing too far the other way and assume everybody knows what Reiki is. And since a lovely subscriber told me they don’t know about Reiki and would like to know more about it, here I am.

WHAT IS REIKI?

Reiki is a Japanese healing technique using energy, also known as Universal Life Force (the literal translation of the Japanese word Reiki).

This life force runs through every living thing from plants, to animals to people. When someone wants to become a Reiki practitioner they must learn from a Reiki Teacher. This is not elitism or gatekeeping. Becoming certified in Reiki levels gives you the ability to channel this life force energy through your hands in different capacities; this process is called an attunement. Only a Reiki teacher has been given the physical ability to do an attunement for another person.

Traditionally, there are three levels in Reiki. Level three is called Reiki Master (sometimes Reiki Master/Teacher combined). However, some teachers require students to take a separate fourth level to become a teacher and be able to attune others (this is what I did with my Reiki teacher).

If you want to call yourself a Reiki practitioner and conduct Reiki treatments for clients you can do so starting with level one. At level one you are capable of channeling Reiki. To be able to channel greater and greater amounts of energy, you must continue with level two and three attunements.

Some people take their Reiki levels purely for personal healing and/or for family members. That is also totally fine. Again, as soon as you take Reiki level one you have the capability to channel energy and there is no need to go further, except if you want to.

So, if you’re curious about Reiki energy and the healing it provides you can go to a Reiki Practitioner, Master or Teacher and receive a Reiki treatment. This means that the practitioner will channel the life force energy through their hands and you will receive the energy into your body.

If you want to be able to channel the energy through your hands, and into your own body or into someone else’s body as a Reiki practitioner, you must receive an attunement.

WHAT DOES REIKI DO FOR YOU?

Reiki energy will fill up low energy areas and balance energy imbalances. If you have low energy in any chakra (there are seven main chakras, aka energy centres), Reiki will rejuvenate you. If you have a build up of energy (a block or stagnation) the Reiki will flow through you and get the energy moving again to regain balance.

I was taught that Reiki is the only modality that adds life force energy to your system. Other modalities such as acupuncture will release stuck energy and help the body balance, but will not add or fill up low energy centres (I love acupuncture, so no shade here!).

When I received my attunement and completed Reiki Level One, my life changed completely. The deep emotional trauma, pain and overwhelm from my past started to release from my body for the first time (I was 34 years old). I let go of layers of stress I didn’t know I was holding for so long. I connected to a deep level of joy and love of life that was totally foreign to me.

I felt lighter. I felt more calm. I started to discover who I truly am.

I’m not saying it was easy; the three weeks of emotional, energetic and physical balancing after the level one attunement was rough to say the least. I felt the emotional gunk that I dissociated from. I came face to face with my wounded inner child. At times it felt excruciating. But there were moments of feeling pure unconditional love that made me weep with joy (I didn’t know this was a thing, aside from reading about it in Anne of Green Gables).

When I began to share Reiki energy with my students and clients, my life was forever changed. I don’t think there is anything more miraculous than watching someone heal and become their true self.

I hope this gives you a taste of what Reiki is all about. This article barely scratches the surface, but even a glimpse of a wonderful thing can be enough sometimes.

Have you had a Reiki treatment? Are you a Reiki practitioner/teacher? I would love to hear about it in the comments! :)

Side note: there are always debates about Reiki and I’ve had many people over the years claim that they just spontaneously started flowing energy through their hands from a young age. I’m not saying this doesn’t happen, but it is rare. Most of the time you need to get an attunement from a Reiki teacher to have the ability to channel the life force through your hands. And there are other modalities that teach people to be various kinds of energy healers.

If you find it hard to find yourself, be your true self or express yourself authentically, one of the best things you can do is feel at home within. You might hear this often in the spiritual communities, but what does coming home to you really mean? The way I think of it is you’re able to filter out other people’s emotions, opinions or boundary crashing. You’ll then have a clear sense of where you end and someone else begins. From there you can dive into what you truly desire and how you want to show up in the world. You’ll be able to say, “I am home.” In this case, the home part is a state of being, not a place.

To get started, we do need to look at what the place of home means to you. What did it look like and feel like? This can get very tricky if you didn’t like the way it felt. Especially if you don’t want to associate the feelings you had with the place(s) you grew up in and who was there. If this is you, lets reframe this and start to cultivate a new, safe experience of home in yourself.

Starting with the felt experience you actually WANT, what does home mean to you? Follow the steps below.

1. List the words and phrases to describe a safe and loving home FOR YOU (it’s different for everybody). Here are my words:

Warm

Cozy

Carefree

Relaxing

Gentle

Fun/Light-hearted

Nourishing

Restful

Creative/Playful

Love-filled

Presence

Connection

Compassion

Expansive

Evolving

Fills you up

Meets your needs

Giving

Receiving

2. Describe a physical place that feels like a safe and loving home. You are describing the scene in a couple of sentences.

A log cabin with a roaring fire, crocheted blanket and good book. Stew is on the stove and a pie is baking in the oven. Textured paintings hang on the wall, and books cover one side of the room. Soft music plays on the record player.

A beach house sits on the sand with the ocean stretching to the horizon. The sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, highlighting the colourful decorative pillows on the overstuffed couch. The wooden dock bobs on the water, holding kayaks, a canoe, and a pile of fluorescent floaties. A glass of lemonade filled with square ice cubes sits on the deck table.

You get the idea.

3. Now combine the feeling words with the described scene like this:

I lounge in my log cabin beside a COZY fire, wrapped in a WARM crocheted blanket, reading a LIGHT-HEARTED book. NOURISHING stew is on the stove and a pie bakes in the oven. CREATIVE textured paintings hang on the wall, and books cover one side of the room. Soft GENTLE music plays on the record player. I feel CONNECTED, RELAXED, EXPANSIVE and LOVE-FILLED in my home. I AM HOME.

4. Read this out loud every day as a mantra to embody and embrace this feeling of home within yourself.

Notice how you feel after a week. How has your relationship with yourself shifted? What do you notice about feeling connected and at home within you? Do you feel any different around other people after doing this practice?

You can play around with different feeling words and descriptions until you find a combination that resonates with you deeply. That is your “home” template that you can use to build that feeling of home within. Say it with me: I AM HOME.

Please save this post and come back to the comment section. Let me know what your experiences are, and your questions. I would love to know!

For the past ten years I’ve been trying to make sense of what’s happening to me. It all started at the age of 42 when my body and mind turned upside down with the onset of severe panic attacks, gushing periods and explosive diarrhea. It’s a phenomenon I like to call, and I’ll spell it out for you, F-U-C-K-Y-O-U-U-N-I-V-E-R-S-E. Or you may know this hellscape by its common name: perimenopause.

This blog is my attempt to untangle my psyche with the word vomit of my contradictory, opposing, and downright confusing beliefs, views and opinions rattling around inside my brain. My aim is to outwardly express myself, so that I can make sense of this wild journey. In doing so, perhaps you’ll take comfort in our common struggle. Also, I believe that two heads are better than one in terms of sharing and brainstorming what can be done to ease our angst and suffering.

If this resonates, I invite you to read my brainspill, a comprehensive anxiety-activating list of politically incorrect, weird, and controversial beliefs, ponderings and musings. In my case, I’m attempting to answer this question:

WHAT SHOULD I DO ABOUT MY HIGH CHOLESTEROL, LOW MOOD, RANDOM HIVES, CONTINUED BLEEDING AND CRAMPS AT 52, LISTLESSNESS, FATIGUE, AND ONGOING DIGESTIVE AND THYROID COMPLICATIONS?

Your question might be totally different or almost a carbon copy.

Please note these internalized opinions and random findings change on a weekly or daily basis. So, depending on the day, I can argue vehemently against or for any one of these.

1. Perimenopause has always existed, but only now has a scientific name for a set of symptoms and hormonal changes women experience as they march towards the end of their menstrual periods (postmenopause).

2. Perimenopause is a made-up construct by the medical system to scare you about a natural process and push hormone replacement therapy onto you, keeping you stuck in a prison of pharmaceutical drugs for the rest of your life.

3. The symptoms known as perimenopause are, in fact, not perimenopause, they are the result of the patriarchy pushing you to the people-pleasing and overgiving brink in midlife when your body and mind can no longer push through and you’ve collapsed.

4. Because women live longer now from modern conveniences and technology (plus the knowledge to prevent previously common causes of death), we don’t have a template for female old age (in North America). The decline of estrogen and other hormones eventually leads to the decline of our body, as was meant to happen “naturally.” In other words, we are pushing evolution to live longer without the quality of life, when women are not equipped to do that without medicines and life-long pharmaceuticals.

5. How do we explain Blue Zones where women live remarkably healthy, long lives without relying on hormone replacement therapy, such as in Okinawa, Japan?

6. It’s best to let my body naturally adjust and eventually I will be balanced again with plenty of rest, nourishing nutrition and nutrients, sleep, journaling, supportive relationships and nervous system support.

7. It’s best to try hormones and use my body as a guinea pig, allowing six months at a time to adjust, even if it takes years and years (it’s already been 3 years) and gird my loins against mood swings, heavy bleeding, cramps, pains, muscle aches, low libido, or wildly fluctuating experiences of these symptoms…so that I can eventually get to a “living my best life” level. Then keep taking that combination of medications forever.

8. Estrogen protects you from bone loss, declining cognitive function, cardiovascular issues (aka heart attacks), certain cancers, drying up like an old catcher’s mitt, muscle loss, digestive problems, mood swings, and also, EVERYTHING. Yet, we “naturally” lose the positive effects of this miracle x factor elixir after menopause? Why???!!! This one really gets me, so let’s add another, BUT WHY????!!!!

9. According to one school of thought, if you get the correct amount of fibre, protein and fat (and the right kind of fat), your hormones naturally balance themselves and you’re all good.

10. According to another school of thought, if you cut out meat and eat a plant-based diet you won’t have the problems that women in North America have with their hormones and accompanying symptoms of perimenopause.

11. Yet another school of thought says that you need to eat meat in order to accomplish the mecca of balanced hormones, eternal optimism, and glowing skin.

12. We are told that you don’t need pharmaceuticals. Supplements like DIM, Black Cohosh, and Chasteberry will help you out of hot flashes and the like.

13. My favourite has to be when I was told by a practitioner that I’d been working with for many years to naturally heal my extreme periods (I had anemia and all the things), “maybe your body wants to bleed like this.”

14. Body parts can be cut out of you with no consequences and will solve the problem of heavy periods, fibroids, or any hormonal issue.

15. Keep all body parts for as long as you can.

16. Fibroids cause bleeding.

17. Fibroids don’t cause bleeding.

18. We don’t know what causes excessive menstrual bleeding.

19. After menopause your fibroids will shrink and the bleeding will stop.

20. Fibroids continue bleeding after menopause.

Which one(s) do you feel in your perimenopausal bones (OMG, I forgot to talk about the bone density issues!)?

1. You arrive, on time (or most likely, early) at a class you signed up for with all the supplies you were told to bring (you’re certain of this because you double-checked the required list umpteen times). As you sit waiting patiently for the class to start, you notice those who wander in, empty-handed, looking confused and disoriented. You direct them to the agenda, outline or any other orienting piece of information and invite them to choose a seat and get comfortable. And you are NOT the teacher.
   

2. You plan ahead for holidays; usually a six week window is as close as you’ll cut it. You contact relatives and friends, design the menu, write the ingredient list and choose the decorations. You send reminders, assign menu items and accommodate those who are gluten free, vegan or vegetarian. You don’t just provide alternatives, you read books on how to prepare these foods and make some of the best versions the guest has ever tasted!
   

3. If you go to a self-help retreat or healing session and there is an accompanying book, you’ve read it. In fact, you highlighted all your fave quotes and suggestions. You’ve done all the pre-requisite meditations, visualizations and exercises AND the optional ones.

Reading over these examples, my heart is bursting with pride for us type A warriors out there! We are killing it!

So, what do you do if your boundless enthusiasm, organizational prowess and earnestness for life’s big adventures goes by the wayside? How on earth do you deal with it when your taste for delicious excellence wanes?

For example, you find yourself saying, “Oh well. Maybe I’ll skip the introductory lesson for my program.”

Or

“I’ll just let someone else plan it out this time. I don’t have the energy.”

I mean, what the hell? This is not like you at all!

Maybe the change snuck up on you. One day you wake up and it feels like you’re wearing a lead suit. Or taking on one more thing will collapse you. And this confuses you to no end.

For so many years you’ve taken it all in stride. “Sleep when you die,” and all that. If you had an ounce of energy you poured it into what was required of you and beyond. This doesn’t feel like the answer any more. You’re still conscientious, reliable and caring. You want to do the right thing and experience life to the fullest. Yet, the old you doesn’t feel quite right.

This is a part of the journey back home to yourself and it’s something to celebrate. To help with the expansion into more of your true self, I offer you these reframes.

1. Whether it’s the declining estrogen or another round of adrenal fatigue, is it such a bad thing that you let a few bouncy balls drop? What would really happen if you allowed your arms to metaphorically fall to your sides, releasing the balls from your hands, to bounce off the floor and whizz past your ear on the way into the stratosphere?
   

2. You could become the type A of zen. Or sleep. Or rest. Can you become the most relaxed, rested, laid back version of yourself? Wouldn’t that require you to dig deep and master this version of you? Turn your energy, focus and commitment towards nourishment, rejuvenation and doing things just because.

I bet if you applied yourself you could become the most zen, chill type A person out there. And even enjoy the process!

What type A skills can you apply to nourish and shower yourself with self-care and self-love?

The arc of my life as a 52 year old woman is quite a learning curve. For the first forty years of my life, I hiked straight up the steep “meaning mountain,” kind of like ascending a climbing wall by your fingernails. My identity as a spiritual person never came into question during this trying time, and I kept going: seeking, learning, striving.

But recently, in the past decade, I’ve felt a little tired. Tired like someone who started out excited to do a marathon then realized the finish line vanished a decade ago. And then kept going. Tired like that. My spiritual off switch is nowhere to be found. Being spiritual, and living a holistic lifestyle is all I know.

I listen to podcasts for midlife women. During my daily walk, my brain absorbs protocols for my health like how to consume one million grams of protein a day and deal with hormonal issues and/or mood disruptions.

Recently, I joined a six-week micro-dosing journey that had me doing lots of journaling and having giant ahas. Like the super obvious fact that my body needs support, and that I still have many codependent struggles despite years of healing. Face palm.

Every week I enjoy pulling oracle cards, so that I can clock my spiritual compass; otherwise I feel like I’m wandering aimlessly through the mundane, cooking dinner and folding laundry while staring out the window.

Occasionally, I’ll go to a therapy session or a healing session or join a Reiki share.

Yesterday, I joined a group of local women to bake apple pies together. I tried lard for the first time and liked it.

Also, I recently started adding a teaspoon of raw cacao to my coffee. That way it can add something to my day instead of just sitting idle, tasting delicious; get in the game, coffee!

All that to say, I do a fair amount of seeking, healing and contemplating. That’s who I am. Where it gets tricky is when I feel like I’m trying everything and I still feel blah. I still feel lost. I still feel meh.

Then I’m forced to take a step back and ask myself:

Am I doing too much?

Am I a walking billboard for the striving (and exhausted) spiritual student?

What if I took a nap instead of doing a deep dive into my astrological landscape?

What if I sat on the sand and watched the seagulls roll in with the waves?

Would my world collapse if I read a frivolous beachy novel with no lessons or checklists in it?

What if I did something that had no spiritual “point”?

Now there’s a good question. And I’m squirming in my seat just thinking about it.

The mere hint of a “time-wasting” activity brings on the guilt sweats.

And then I want to journal about how my ancestors never rested, and try to heal the part of me that can’t just “be.” But wouldn’t that take me away from my nap or book? Hmm. That’s so meta.

When was the last time I truly enjoyed a moment, feeling an inward smile of pure gratitude for being my Self?

Yesterday, I went into town with no plans, and three and a half hours of time stretched ahead of me.

I wandered down to the beach. I admired the turquoise and dark blue contrast of the water and watched tourists marvel at what I have access to every single day.

A warm feeling grew in my belly.

Then I went into a few gift shops, smelling each bottle, soap and candle. It was a heady experience!

I sorted through racks of jeans, shirts and blouses, but didn’t have the drive to try anything on. I just admired the textures, colours and designs.

I ended up at a nice hotel by the water, in the cafe, and ordered a coffee and turkey sandwich on a croissant. I did some more gazing out at the ocean, and a feeling of profound gratitude, calm and wonder washed over me. I felt my body relax and shift into being. I am SO lucky to live here!

When my husband came to get me, my heart had blossomed, and healing had occurred. With no journal, livestream or checklist in sight.

As long as you promise to get in and get out, I’ll open up the curtain to the inner workings of my mind. Think of it as a bizarre meetup group you wish you never went to. Warning: after reading this you might decide to stop the seeking and become a professional poker player.

Armed with my oracle cards, raincoat and reusable coffee mug, I begin to ascend my Mount Everest of UNWORTHINESS.

Halfway up, I stumble, twisting my ankle (AGAIN, DAMMIT!) on a DADDY ISSUES rock.

I keep going, because with a spiritual quest you NEVER GIVE UP. Besides the swelling isn’t too noticeable. It merely resembles a loaf of bread in my sock.

Fast forward (because this is already boring): sun warms my face. The path is lined with daisies and lush grass. I’m moving at a comfortable pace, feeling pretty good when suddenly, the ground drops away. I manage to grasp at the rock face as I skid down the mountain. But I’m hanging by my fingernails.

The famous white knuckle.

“Um, Universe, a little help?”

“Just let go!” he yells down from the top.

Really? Well, I guess I could give it a little trust and faith and all that. Here goes.

I LET GO.

Plummeting towards the earth at breakneck speed, I’m full on panicking.

“Build your wings on the way down? Who the fuck thought of that plan?!”

Just as my nose is about to hit the ground, a majestic flying horse gallantly swoops me up. We ascend into the heavens once again.

Ahhh…God is great. I feel so alive! What a beautiful view up here.

ALL IS WELL.

I feel at ONE with everything, especially with this magical Pegasus! I feel so much love and I could kiss everyone, EVEN the jerk who cut me off last week. My heart is as warm and fuzzy as a box of kittens.

I’m too drunk on love to notice that my winged specimen of grace has tipped forward. He drops me from a height of impossible feet into a predator infested jungle.

Umpf! I hit the ground, flattened.

“Thanks for the ride, four-legged one!” I squeak. He’s gone. Rude.

Lying on my back I think, I could really go for a plate of fries right now. This spiritual shit makes me hungry.

After a few hours of shaking my fist at the powers that be, I gather myself up and step through the mud, past snakes and unidentifiable deadly creatures. Eventually, I come upon a Rabbit. Peter Rabbit, I assume.

I feel a kinship and begin to tell him my problems. After a considerable amount of ranting and processing, I fall silent. I look at Peter Rabbit with anticipation. His wisdom oozes off him. He’s definitely an old soul. He blinks at me and hops away.

Ok, Snow White, I’m not.

A couple of miles and a bad case of poison ivy later, I come upon a cottage. This is it! Just like in The Shack! I’m saved.

I go inside and a lovely woman with long red hair greets me. She gestures to the chair by the fire and hands me a mug of tea. Smiling, she says, “You need to practice being grateful, my child.” She is about 35 years old and I’m middle aged. Awkward.

“Mother… er … can I call you that? I assure you I’m very grateful for my life. Like the time I fell from the summit of Mount Everest, being thrown to the ground by a giant winged horse and crawling through poison ivy with low blood sugar. I am eternally grateful for these miraculous expansions and lessons. But when does it start to get GOOD?”

“It’s all in the way you look at it. It’s either a failure or a learning. Everything is happening FOR you, not TO you.”

Hmm … so if I punched her in the mouth, it would be FOR her. I mull this over.

I fall asleep by the fire, with visions of violence dancing in my head. All through the night not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.

I wake up in my own bed, in my normal apartment, on a normal Tuesday at normal o’clock. Had it all been a dream? It couldn’t be! It was too real.

Then I remember I have a Chakra Reshaping appointment scheduled for ten! I throw on my yoga pants, pour my double latte and run out the door. Today is a good day and I’m very grateful to be alive. Grateful mostly that my dream was just a dream AND thank goodness I don’t have poison ivy. That shit is terrible.

It always seemed to come around to: “Well, we’ll have to try again.”

Then the dentist would launch into another six month plan to upgrade their bridge or replace this or that.

My impulse after hearing about the next monumental dental procedure was to don my cape and swoop into the dental office with fiery rage in my belly, demanding to see the dental plan and make the dentist explain himself.

“The dentist has a business and that’s how he makes money. To always make sure there is something else to fix with your teeth.” I said.

“He’s looking out for me. He’s very good.”

“Ok, but do you really think you need to do this procedure?”

The mood had shifted and suddenly their very integrity hung in the balance.

“What you’re telling me is you think I’m an idiot, not knowing what I’ve been doing for the past twenty years.”

Whoa. We were going there.

“No, I think that it would help to get a second opinion. I’ve never known anyone who goes to the dentist more than you do. You must have the most problematic teeth on the planet.”

The sarcasm and frustration shot out of my mouth from the depths of my tight solar plexus. I tried to pull myself together and steer the conversation back to neutral ground.

“Have you asked if your teeth are good enough the way they are for now? So you can have a break?”

But the hurt arrow had left the bow and it was game over. We hung up and I’ve been wrestling with my part in all this.

I flip and I flop.

Flip: It’s their teeth and if they want to make their dentist visits into a decades long run-on sentence, then so be it.

Flop: That dentist should be in jail for elder abuse!

Flip: If this is what they want, I need to respect their decisions.

Flop: The dentist google reviews say he has an “authoritarian” attitude and doesn’t listen to what the patient wants. I need to get them to another dentist!

The sad part is I haven’t landed on anything that feels great. Letting things happen is not my natural inclination. Letting others get taken advantage of is NOT my go to.

I know this is a lesson for me and it’s not about teeth, dentists, manipulation or discernment. It’s about me being available for others if they need help. It’s about taking care of myself and telling that part of me that needs to save and fix and rescue, that all is well.

And when I move into my body, into my core, I can be of service to others and take care of myself at the same time. And that’s all I can do.

Power. We all have it, but you’d think it was a hidden gem buried in some far away land. Since there are gatekeepers to power, we obsess over it and spend our lives wondering: Who has the power? How do I get some?

We think of power as a thing you get. Or something you earn. Being a coveted thing, it’s easy to fall for the narrative that it can be given or taken away. For example, you may have been told growing up that you don’t have any (and never will). Or you might’ve been taught that you have no choice (a cousin of power).

You’ve spent your life looking for power. You looked high and low, near and far. Under the rock of beauty, or over the hill of fame. You might have sniffed it in the air, losing the scent as someone else traveled too quickly ahead of you.

Or perhaps in school when they gave out power awards for smartness or coolness, you skipped that day. And continued your search for many years, post high school, with the same insecurities and uncertainties that kept you stuck in a power struggle of your own identity.

And then one day, out of sheer luck, you spotted power on a pedestal and snatched it up. You held onto it for dear life. You squeezed it so tight. Nothing could make you give this up. You felt safe and possibly whole, for a time.

Slowly this power began to drain out as family members tugged on your emotions, placed blame or dished out back-handed compliments. Until one day you opened your hand and it was empty. Where did the power go?!

Now you’re in midlife, with life-sized scars running the length of your soul. You see the power for what it is. You see power for who it is.

You begin to turn inward for the search and find an endless field of daisies. All the power you’ve ever wanted. Your own True Power within. Nothing you need to grasp or prove or buy or sell or trade or accomplish or do unspeakable things for. You remain intact. You continue to be yourself.

Only now you are a factory of self-generating power. You are your own generator. You never have a power outage. You are fully self-sufficient. Your only “job” is to go back to the field for fresh daisies, as often as you like, for the pure joy of it. Fresh daisies that regrow and flourish and pollinate themselves. A place of eternal power in a field of your own making.

With a view of the horizon and the promise of home.

Or do you get angry, whipping yourself into a frenzy over the astronomical price of avocados?

Do you go on a mission to help your spouse, taking all your time and pouring it into the minutiae of their problems?

What do you do when you have a pain in your heart?

Do you sit and observe quietly?

To let the poisonous betrayal pour out in front of your crossed legs and all over the rug.

Or perhaps you take it in your cradled hands.

And softly pet and soothe the abandoned parts of you.

How do you respond to a pain in your heart?

Add another meeting or to do to your list?

Do you rev up your schedule like a bellowing metal hog, so you can drown out any whispers of the hurts and aches?

What do you do when you have a pain in your heart?

Why not listen, and soften and allow?

Can you welcome the expression with open arms?

Why not be with the pain as much as you dance with the anger or disgust?

The bodyguard is the anger.

The disgust is the distraction.

This is hiding the main event: the pain party!

In midlife the pain doesn’t seem so longlasting.

The pain doesn’t carry such a threat.

My pain is earned and all mine.

I honour the pain and release it with a joyful gratitude.

Hats off to you! Thank you for being in the trenches for me.

Until we meet again, pain in my heart, I applaud your courage.

I’m a GenX 1974 baby. I grew up with Buddhist parents and branched out into the world of New Age early on. I remember playing with my friends’ parents’ Tarot cards as a child. Incense, brown bread and prayer flags were commonplace (if you can believe it, no one in my high school circa 1987 came to school with brown bread sandwiches except for me)!

When I was in my twenties, loyalty was the greatest badge of honour. I grew up in a rough neighbourhood, so it was very important for self-preservation and safety. As I got past my teens, I felt the urge to change, grow and become softer, and more at peace; I felt increasingly out of place in my friend group. I couldn’t relate to my female friends the way we had always communicated: through aggression and the graphic focus on sex and female body parts.

It’s as if taking back our sexual power and agency over our bodies turned into a game of outdoing men who degraded us as GenX women (examples 2 Live Crew; Eminem). If we talked like them it was ok because we were saying it. My experience is that cringe is always cringe no matter who says it. I never want to call a friend a bitch or slut as a “term of endearment.” Hypocritical moment: At 16, I loved the music of my time and listened to it on repeat flying down the road in my boyfriend’s Chevy Impala. Also, I wore rage like a favourite jean jacket.

Although I love Chelsea Handler, Sarah Silverman and Amy Schumer for being strong, empowered women, I feel very cringe about their comedy. Can’t women be funny without resorting to lewd or salacious comedy sets? Is that just me? Where do we draw the line and step into our power without trying to best our male counterparts?

I have other hangups about making friends: feeling like a weirdo flower child still lingers. If I’m in a room of women my age (I’m 52), I immediately grasp for palatable topics like:

-Vacations
-Home renovations

In the past ten years I’ve become a little bit braver about expressing who I am. I’ll bring up Reiki, and I don’t get as many “what is that?” questions anymore. In 2008 when I first started my Reiki journey I got a lot of blank stares. Now it’s usually something like “Oh, I love Reiki!” or “I have my level 2”, which is so inspiring!

I also moved around a lot. I left my hometown and traveled around the world spending time in Ireland, New Zealand, Australia, Bali and Kenya. Eventually, I moved from my home base of Vancouver, Canada to Toronto and lived there for ten years. I lost touch with friends from high school and had to find new friends.

I went into holistic health and found my peeps in Toronto! I had a wonderful bunch of female friends from all walks of life. My thirties were the golden era of friendship for me. For ten years I had weekend trips to the cottage, nights out dancing and meetups for coffee. We took trips to Montreal and I went to Ottawa for a work trip. I felt fulfilled and happy with lots of warm fuzzy friend hangouts.

Then when I turned 42, I started having panic attacks. This went on for weeks with no improvement no matter what supplement I stuffed in my mouth or healer I went to see. By the way, it would take me almost 10 years to get a handle on what was the start of perimenopause! After it became impossible to work at the health food store or go out in public very much I made the hard decision to go back home.

Landing in East Van again (now called the East Village) was a culture shock I wasn’t ready for. Trendy coffee shops, cannabis shops and breweries filled every block of my old neighbourhood. And again I felt discouraged and out of place. I don’t smoke weed or eat gummies or vape. I hate beer. I was at a disadvantage again. Why did I always feel like I had to get on board the train of going unconscious to take the edge off? Don’t get me wrong, I still love wine and cocktails, but these trends seem like something you’re supposed to do every day at all hours.

I’m at a point in my journey where I want to be fully awake. I want to be in touch with my body, gentle with myself and loving who I am. I want to get to know myself more and more everyday. And you can’t do that with a handful of gummies and a beer chaser. Everyone has their own path and I understand the desire to zone out all too well. I don’t mean to sound judgemental or critical. I just want to find other women who are down to earth, want to know each other as they are and connect. Can anyone relate? Any other women out there who feel displaced, out of place or disoriented in their midlife power era? I would love to hear from you. Thank you for reading this surprisingly rambly confession as to why I’m so hopeless at making friends at 52.

Overnight I went from being an intuitive dating coach for women over 40, to a perimenopausal woman having a panic attack on the phone when I thought my IT person was trying to rebuild everything I had just lost. Because underneath the loss, panic and shock of being digitally violated, I felt a deep sense of relief. Calm. Space. Almost excitement.

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And I finally understood what the expression “all out of fucks” means in a practical sense. All my drive had folded like a house of cards. My ambition, my building, building, building, doing, doing, doing mantra collapsed on itself leaving me standing in the rubble of my identity.

I am very happy and grateful for the past eight years being an intuitive dating coach for midlife women. I loved what I created except… looking back I started to feel a restriction in my chest and a nagging sense that I was shrinking, and becoming smaller, and smaller and smaller. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of alignment. Like I had more to share and I needed a much larger container. Parts of me beat my chest like a drum, to give them a voice.

So, here I am. Taking my gems of wisdom and moving forward on my journey that spans two decades in the personal development and healing space. Taking all that is relevant, useful and necessary. Returning to my roots of tuning into my wisdom and deeply connecting to my true self. Expressing my hard-earned wisdom as an offering to all those who are meant to hear it.

I’m activating my voice as a woman who was silenced as a child, and all the scars that come with that. I’m activating my voice around the struggles and triumphs of being a recovering people pleaser, survivor of parental narcissistic abuse, intuitive, fierce, independent, gogetter, typeA, multi-passionate! I am here to shine bright. I am Truly Eleanor. And I’m so glad you’re here.

Calling all GenX women to subscribe and
take this crazy midlife journey with me!

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I’ve been a coach and healer since 2008. You may know me as the Intuitive Dating Coach and host of the Stop Chasing Unavailable Guys podcast. For the last eight years I showed up specifically for women navigating love after 40. That work was real, it mattered, and it came from the deepest part of me.

And now something deeper is calling.

I’m Truly Eleanor. Writer + Creator. A healer with boots on the ground. And this is my next chapter: reflections on finding my way through midlife, and back home to my true self. I would love you to join me on this adventure/soft place to land.

Calling all GenX women to subscribe and
take this crazy midlife journey with me!

Subscribe now