Life Defining Moments – Reclaiming Your Power

I hung up the phone with the doctor. It was confirmed that yes, I did have another miscarriage and no, we don’t need you to come in for further testing, not until you’ve had three.

Three miscarriages. My heart was barely surviving two, how was I expected to get through another?

It was a moment that forever changed me.

Life Defining Moments-Reclaiming Your Power

I clearly saw myself on a path, breaking in two directions. One of which was the path I was currently walking and the other, a path I had never been on but somehow knew it was the only way forward for me.

As soon as I thought the thought, a weight lifted from my insides. I suddenly felt lighter…even a little hopeful.

But mostly I felt like I had taken my power back.

The power I had so absentmindedly given away to everyone else I believed to know better than me.

I had spent the better part of the year waiting on someone else to tell me if I was going to be okay, almost holding my breath in anticipation for the answers to make me whole again.

But the answer was already in me, waiting for me to pay attention.

A defining moment in my life.

The moment I decided to take a different path was the moment I said to the world around me, enough.

That’s enough.

And I walked away from everything that felt heavy.

Life began to slow down, in the way that life should slow down. My mind quieted, the pit in my stomach softened.

I woke up from the spell I was under and got to work healing myself, guided by my intuition, that wise inner voice I hadn’t listened to in a very long time.

And the more I slowed down, the louder my voice became.

Navigating life’s choices became a matter of feeling my way through, allowing my heart to lead.

Heavy or light?

Hopeless or hopeful?

Powerless or powerful?

All it takes is one choice. One moment in time where you say to the world, enough.

That’s enough.

So whatever it is for you, if you are giving your power away, I want you to look down at the path you are on and make a choice. You can choose to keep putting one foot in front of the other, keep going in the same direction you’ve always been going.

Or you can choose a different way. Look up and see where the path breaks, look for the one less travelled. And as you stand there, contemplating this new path, notice how you feel. Maybe a little lighter, a little hopeful.

Maybe even a little powerful.

Take that path.

We’re Not Here To Be June Cleaver And Then We Die

We're Not Here To Be June Cleaver And Then We Die

Have you had this moment? Thinking life would be easier if morphing into a 1950’s housewife felt right.

If staying home, raising kids, tailoring curtains to their desired length while whipping up meatloaf for dinner felt right?

And please, lets not forget our hair, which of course is flawlessly done in the latest up do while we scrub the toilet bowl… because, why not?

I feel like maybe I could rock that. Maybe my floors would be clean, my family photos would be in albums, and the pile of recycling would stop falling out whenever I open the cupboard.

Maybe this could be my life if only I put down my journal, or that book I’m reading. Or maybe if I quit writing. Or spend less time in the garden. Or stay home from that class I signed up for. Or just stop pursuing whatever it is that’s calling my name at the moment.

But I can’t do it.

Don’t get me wrong. I love staying home with my kids, I feel blessed to have that option.

But my job is not to play a role written for someone else.

Whether it’s a fictional 1950’s character or the millennial mom who appears to be the updated version of it.

That is not what I’m here for.

Hell no.

My job is to do it my way. To listen to my own voice. To that growing restlessness shaking up my insides, whispering, nudging, and sometimes shouting. It’s time.

The world doesn’t need another June Cleaver.

Been there. Done that.

The world needs original.

It craves original.

Quirks and all.

Because living life on your own terms feeds the fire of empowerment, giving the people around you permission to do the same…like your kids for example.

So take that step. And sometimes that means taking a step back.

From that thing you said you’d do.

Or that project you don’t want to finish.

Or that role you’ve been pretending to play.

It’s time.

Make space in your life.

If you have no clue where to start, start there.

Take a step back from all the distractions and make space for what’s been calling your name.

And that growing restlessness shaking up your insides will thank you.

This is why you’re here my friend. It’s time.

We're Not Here To Be June Cleaver & Then We Die - You Got This.

Wrapped Up In Stories

At the end of it all, what are we left with but our story? All of life’s moments wrapped up into one beautiful journey of love and loss, struggle and growth.

Create A Home That Celebrates Your Story

An invisible thread, transporting us instantaneously with something as simple as a smell, an object, or a song from the radio.

And just like any story we spend time with, parts are forgotten, their contents failing to resonate, while others stay with us, imprinted on the very depths of who we are.

It’s our stories that are left. The tales of loved ones who walked before us, parts carried forward, parts let go.

It’s a choice we make, being the creators of our lives. We hold the pencils, choosing the direction our stories will go in. Choosing the words we share with our children, the recipes we cook, the photographs we keep. 

It’s pausing for a moment when the scent of a tea towel reminds you of your grandmother’s kitchen.

It’s slowing down in the garden when you see your child working beside you.

It’s in the simplicity of these moments that write the heart of our story. That weaves the invisible thread between generations, speaking to the depths of who we are.

Let us be intentional with our stories. Let us write more about love and growth, and less on loss and struggle.

Let our homes be filled with what matters most, our family, our friends and the things that connect us.

Let the art on the walls make you smile. And if it doesn’t, change it.

Sharpen your pencil and start over.

You are a storyteller.  We are all storytellers; it’s who we are.

Our history runs deep in the stories of our ancestors.

And will continue on after we are gone.

Because at the end of it all, what are we left with but our story? All of life’s moments wrapped up into one beautiful journey.

Why I Will Never Be A Flea Market Flipper

Flea Market Flip

I had big plans. I found an old desk at a sale one Saturday afternoon. It was ugly, came with a wobble, heavy as hell and a major hassle to load in my van to take home.

But it had potential.

So I was excited, my head full of inspiration as I backed up to unload this beautiful beast to my waiting husband, who was quietly shaking his head in defeat…as he is known to do in these kinds of situations.

And I get the head shaking, I do. Here’s the desk in all its former glory… notice the broken tiled top? Nice, right?

Flea Market Find Before Picture

I definitely had to prove I could make this thing look pretty again.

The first step was taking off the tiles. I was hoping to somehow salvage the wood underneath but soon realized it would be much easier and more worth my time to replace the whole top altogether.

So while I brainstormed ideas for what to do, I got to work giving the rest of it a light sanding and enlisted my husband to fix the wobble, handy guy he is.

I then painted the inside of the drawers using a turquoise spray paint, I love adding a pop of colour in unexpected places.

Flea Market Flip

I used my own homemade batch of chalk paint for the exterior. You can see my recipe for chalk paint here. It’s easy…like ridiculously easy.

I chose a dark charcoal colour and ended up giving it two coats, followed with a coat of varathane. Once it was dry, I took some sandpaper and lightly distressed the areas that normally wear over time.

Flea Market Flip

Now I was ready for the top. I had decided on some old boards we had around the shop. I really didn’t want to invest any more money than necessary. My husband cut the boards to the desired length while I sanded…and sanded…and sanded.

Once they were nailed on, I gave it a coat of stain to seal it. It’s a rustic top but I love it.

Flea Market Flip

It turned out better than I expected. When it came time to post it online for sale, I just couldn’t do it.

Procrastination led to keeping it… so much for my attempt at flipping.

Flea Market Flip

Cue flashback to husband quietly shaking his head in defeat…I feel like maybe he knew this was coming.

It’s almost like he knows me.

So now I’ve created another project for myself…finding a spot for this new treasure to call home.

For now it sits next to my bed as my nightstand. It’s a little too big for the space so I know it’s not its forever place but for now it works.

Flea Market Flip

Am I the only one who attempted the flea market flip and ended up keeping it? I’d love to hear your stories. Comment below or email me pictures of your favourite pieces you couldn’t let go of!

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Flea Market Flip

Here’s a handy list of what to look for when shopping for bargains…

Garage Sale Addict