Hello friends,
I’ve missed you so. This week’s letter is a few days behind due to just being inundated with work, the kids getting sick, followed by us getting sick, and a few stresses here and there but the bright white silver lining is that * drum roll * …
Extra Foam turned 1 !
I have been writing and sending out newsletters to you beautiful amazing subscribers for an entire YEAR. OH. EM. GEE. I am so proud of myself, and that isn’t something I say, think, or write out often, which is a damn shame innit? I actually TRIED something and kept on trying, week after week. It has paid off and feels so rewarding. Being here continues to push me to write and share. Well done, me.
The last time I felt this accomplished was when I pushed my kids out of my vag, and sharing my experiences on Substack is nowhere near as painful, though writer’s block can be a real bitch from time to time.
I broke a nail a few days ago. I almost didn’t notice at first until I hit my pinky nail against the car door and felt it bend. I looked down to see a perfect split straight across. The acrylic and polish were holding my frail and very soft real nail underneath together. Thankfully, the whole thing hadn’t ripped off, though now that it was partly broken, I kind of wanted to tear it off myself.
I shook my head in disappointment. I knew I should have booked in and gotten off the couch last Sunday to get a fill. But it was rainy and grey and all of us were perfectly content watching movies and eating chips and cheese between rounds of hide & seek and silly shows on YouTube.
24 hours later, enough was enough. I didn’t have another morning off for days so I sent a text to my nail lady, whose cell number I have because, well, we instantly hit it off when she first did my nails a few months ago and she was warm enough to tell me that I could skip the online booking and text her instead.
“I broke a nail. I need a fill…Is there any chance at all that you can squeeze me in tomorrow morning??” - SEND.
I was up by dawn, readying the kid’s outfits, and my son’s lunch and doing my skincare routine. By 8:50 am, Lana was filing away. Between fingers, she paused. “You know, Kathleen you have beautiful hands. You could be a hand model, they are always so soft”.
I scoff, of course. A hand model!?! No. LOL. “Thanks, Lana, that’s really nice to say”. In the back of my mind, I could envision my mom’s expression looking down at my hands, specifically at the finger tattoos I had done last year. She’s disgusted. “You ruined them with the tattoo!”, I can hear her saying.
“No, really”, Lana continues, “Hands like this, where I’m from, it means that….things come easy to you. Life feels easy. You will not have a hard life”. She takes my hand and traces a finger across the lines of my palm, pausing to observe. “Things will be easy...A good, good life”. She looks at me with a softened expression, almost as if to say (without saying), that I know what she means, pats my hand and continues filing.
Did Lana just prophesize and eliminate all of my inner demons in an instant? I was speechless and soothed. Does she say this to all her clients?
Have I experienced difficulties in life? Of course, don’t we all? I had some instability in my childhood, I bounced back and forth between Canada and the States while my dad drank or gambled away the rent money. I was oblivious to most of what was going on, and I spent a lot of time with cousins, aunts and uncles who fed me, loved on me and kept me laughing. My mom worked a lot to make ends meet, and I ‘grew up’ faster than I needed to.
I have an unhealthy relationship with money now and I’m not where I thought I would be financially, or career-wise, whatever that would or will be. Maybe if I made different choices, or took going to college/university more seriously. I should have started that YouTube channel or blog earlier or agreed to go into nursing. I shouldn’t have cared so much about my pimples or my weight. I shouldn’t have accepted that credit card increase knowing I couldn’t afford the payments.
There are so many things I want to accomplish that I beat myself up about not having done yet. Social media presents all these people ‘making it’, or ‘having it so easy’. Travel, freedom, luxury, choices. Comparison is truly the thief of joy. I have dreams I’d like to (will) make come true. Not only mine but my kids as well. At times, these thoughts can be difficult to grapple with. At times, life doesn’t feel easy at all.
What has happened consistently, however, is I’ve always met the right people at all the right times of my life. A situation would work out in my favour, even when I was sure it wouldn’t. When I didn’t get the job, something else would open up. I’d leave my favourite ring on the bathroom sink at the bar and it would still be there an hour later. (I’ve left that one ring at many a bar, club, restaurant bathroom and always got it back)
Someone would enter from stage right to teach me something. To humble me. To have me bear witness to how NOT to act. A friend, a colleague, a stranger. Sometimes that lesson wouldn’t be realized until years later, but by the next season of my life, I felt better equipped to take it on having had those encounters. It’s on the days that I fought against saying “no”, and choosing “yes”, instead that I met individuals that I can’t imagine not being in my life now. And I did go on an awesome vacation to Cabo thanks to that credit increase, lol ;)
With no parachute, I tend to jump knowing that I’ll be caught. (So SAGITTARIUS of me, really)
By whom, or what? I don’t know. God, (won’t he do it!). The universe, the collective energy harnessed by smiling at strangers, recycling, uplifting someone’s spirits, and being open to receiving what is out there for me. At some point, I decided that I must always be willing to fall. Over and over again. To fall in love. Fall out of a friendship. Fall away from comfort and fall down the hole to find the white rabbit.
And on this voyage through enormous teardrops, valleys filled with talking dandelions and encounters with Cheshire cats, I’ve learned to value time over money, to like myself let alone love myself. I give the benefit of the doubt even after I’ve been burned. I hold space for myself and others to make mistakes, learn from them and start over.
When swinging on a trapeze, the physical act of letting go is quite easy, it’s worrying about what will happen once you let go that feels most difficult.
Loving is easy. She’s right about that. I have been loved and love so much that my chest physically hurts. Selflessly, selfishly, relentlessly. It is so easy when we just allow ourselves to.
My kids remind me just how easy it is. They reach out with bright eyes and full hearts to say hello to strangers on the street. Their beautiful imaginations allow me to see colours my eyes had turned blind to, their warm hugs remind me of how much we all just wanted to feel safe and loved.
I have a good life. A beautiful life. And just one, so I can’t waste it not jumping off to the next adventure.
So with a fresh set of nails and a warm heart, I invite you to let go a little more often. I think Lana shared that with me so I could share it with you.
What comes to mind when you think of what makes your life REALLY GOOD? Let me know in the comments.
Thanks for coming by. I appreciate you I think you’re amazing. If this resonated with you, a tap on that heart means a lot, and subscribing or sharing makes me happy dance.
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I’ll leave you with this super underrated song by Michael Jackson. Sounds even vibier after 2 glasses of wine, just saying.
Catch you on the next one!
kisses.