Chapter 8

Today, my 46th birthday, I’ve decided is the beginning of a new chapter for me. I stand, holding all that filled my past chapters in my heart, ready to see what they have prepared me for. I hope they have given me wisdom and quiet strength to face whatever this chapter has in store for me with courage, grace, gratitude, and love. And a sense of playful adventure.

I’ve recently been inspired, aided by the wisdom of dear friends Lori Myles and Steffi Black, and authors Megan Macedo and Glennon Doyle, to embrace my story. I’ve always been my true authentic self, but do I really know who I am? I once scheduled a meeting with a Buddhist monk at a temple in Thailand and asked him, “If I strip away all the circumstances of my life, who am I? How can I truly know myself if I can’t describe myself without traits like my demographics and family and professional status?”. We had a lovely 2.5 hour conversation, but he couldn’t answer my question.

I recently came across Megan Macedo, a marketing consultant from Derry (my mother’s hometown in Ireland), who helps people know and tell their story. I’m intrigued by her story, and her methods. She says to start by defining the chapters of your life. You can decide what age ranges make sense for you for each chapter of your life; typically a chapter starts every 3 to 7 years. Then answer a series of questions for each chapter (about your values, passions, fears, major events, life lessons, etc) so you can identify the common threads. I found that defining the chapters of my life came pretty easily, with logical breaks in the sequence of my life experiences every 3-7 years.

I’ve been so fortunate in my life, in each and every chapter. Some of my recent chapters included wonderful life events like marrying Matt, becoming a mother, moving into my dream home in a community I love, ringing the bell at the Nasdaq with my husband and business partner, and traveling to fabulous places around the world. I have worked hard and played hard and shown up in the world with passion and heart.

My last chapter (Chapter 7) kicked me off my feet a bit. It humbled me and slowed me down. It began the day I woke up to the realization that my values didn’t align with the new owners of my business. I learned not to force my energy where it doesn’t flourish. Let the humbling begin. Soon after, I lost my friend James in a tragic accident on a trip for my 40th birthday. I learned just how fragile and precious life is, how everything truly can change in an instant, and how to not blame myself for things out of my control. I also learned that friends will leave you for various devastating and often confusing reasons. It’s part of life, and life is beautiful in all its messiness. But I didn’t always see this clearly, especially on the days when I questioned myself and made myself small.

I’m not quite finished my sad story yet. During Chapter 7 I also broke two bones (on separate occasions), contracted a tropical virus that physically brought me to my knees, contracted Covid (in spite of very precautionary measures), and now suffer from severe tinnitus. And let’s not forget the year of isolation in a global pandemic, keeping me from so many of the things and people I love. But each of these gifts of imperfection has taught me so much and led me to where I am today.

It wasn’t all hard. In fact, a lot of it was freakin fantastic! Like traveling to 16 countries in the past few years (many of them several times) on family trips, romantic getaways, trips with extended family, girls trips, and solo trips. Island hopping. Music festivals. Meeting Michelle Obama. Sailing “Only Love” on Lake Ontario, embracing the big beautiful body of water I have lived next to my whole life but only experienced from the shore. Dancing with my grandmother at her 80th birthday party. Developing a deeper relationship with my sister, and gaining a new sister. Umpteen cherished memories with my family at our cottage. Rediscovering my love for waterskiing, this time with my girls. Countless adventures and cherished memories with my love, Matt, and our precious girls. And joyful soulful love-filled moments with cherished friends.

Of course, many of these events came to a halt a year ago. Since then I have had the opportunity to sit quietly, to reflect on my experiences and all that I have to be grateful for, and to absorb what it has all taught me.

I have learned a lot about meaningful connections and friendship. I learned that one of life’s greatest treasures is a soul friend (in Celtic tradition known as Anam Cara), and I am blessed with sacred souls with whom I am eternally and unconditionally connected. They light me up. I have also learned that being my own true companion makes me whole no matter what, and that gives me more of myself to offer to others. I have learned that some of the simplest things are the most important. Like true presence, which it turns out isn’t all that simple because it requires dedicated practice and intention. Slowing down allowed me to discover my love for poetry, which has been rich with awakenings. My favourite poet John O’Donohue said “take time to celebrate the quiet miracles that seek no attention”. I’ve learned that true happiness resides in contentment - the ability to feel complete with what is present, without judgment, or comparison, or wishing for anything to be different. And when I take time to slow down and pay attention to the quiet miracles, I find contentment right there in the moment, and there’s nothing better.

Thank you Chapter 7 for showing me the stars you can only see in darkness, and for making me small for a little while to connect me with myself and my humanity. Chapter 8, I'm ready to step back into myself, to live my story, by my own rules, and do what sets my soul on fire.

FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY

By John O’Donohue

Blessed be the mind that dreamed the day

The blueprint of your life

Would begin to glow on earth,

Illuminating all the faces and voices

That would arrive to invite

Your soul to growth.

Praised by your father and mother,

Who loved you before you were,

And trusted to call you here

With no idea what you would be.

Blessed be those who have loved you

Into becoming who you were meant to be,

Blessed be those who have crossed your life

With dark gifts of hurt and loss

That have helped to school your mind

In the art of disappointment.

When desolation surrounded you,

Blessed be those who looked for you

And found you, their kind hands

Urgent to open a blue window

In the grey wall formed around you.

Blessed be the gifts you never notice,

Your health, eyes to behold the world,

Thoughts to countenance the unknown,

Memory to harvest vanished days,

Your heart to feel the world’s waves,

Your breath to breath the nourishment

Of distance made intimate by earth.

On this echoing-day of your birth,

May you open the gift of solitude

In order to receive your soul;

Enter the generosity of silence

To hear your hidden heart;

Know the serenity of stillness

To be unfolded anew

By the miracle of your being.