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Dear Grandmother, Who is this person that doesn't want me to be happy and live a beautiful life? I am six years old, sitting on top of my favourite red slide on the playground at my school, when a tall, 40 year old man wearing stripes appears. He is slightly hunched over, his energy makes me feel sick. He is an unhappy, aloof man, covered in guilt and shame, with no friends. He feels bad to be around, he makes me cringe. This man starts coming everywhere with me, he is very controlling, he says I can't be friends with anyone but him. He tells me people don't like me, that the other kids don't want to be my friend. I wish this man would go away, but everywhere I go, there he is, nested, perched on my back. He torments me, not allowing me to be happy, not letting me enjoy life. When I become a teen, he makes me do horrible things to myself, he tells me if I hurt myself, other people will like me, so I do. This man is a shapeshifter, his sleeve filled with manipulative tricks. As I grow older, his power over me becomes stronger, until eventually he becomes me. My choice diminished, I do everything he says. Hidden by him I cannot connect, I cannot love or receive love, I cannot be happy or succeed in anything that would once make me proud. One day I decide that enough is enough, I remember who I am and I tell the man to please get off my back. He stands in front of me. I look up to him and excitedly tell him that today we are leaving this bubble, together, hand in hand, we can be free! I tell the man that he doesn't need to be afraid anymore, we can be together and that life is supposed to be fun! I show the man how to be happy, how to dance, how to have friends and how to be brave. The man, finally at peace, shrinks down and I place him into the pocket that sits at my heart. Every once in a while, I feel him crawl up and on to my back when he is scared. He tries to take me over and control me like he used to, wanting me to play small, but now he knows who is boss and I have become the shapeshifter. Thank you, thank you my demon, for reminded me I have choice. -Phoebe van der Wart Dear Reader, Who is this person that doesn't want you to be happy and live a beautiful life?  "Heart Tug" (Hein Koh)
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GOOD FOR ME! 28 days of Self Love with Phoebe. In Cognitive Behavioural Therapy “Good For Me!” is a statement that is encouraged to be spoken to ourselves throughout our days, when we do something that makes us proud. A “Good For Me!” can be rewarded to ourself for any size of accomplishment: When taking out the garbage “Good For Me!”, listening a little closer to a friend “Good For Me!”, receiving an award for a major accomplishment “Good For Me!” I have often caught my mom saying “I rock!” to tasks that to me seemed small (like a newly organized “junk drawer”) and proclaims, proudly, when getting a stain out of a sweater that she is “The Stain Queen!” The Choice OS teachings by Mikis Hasson ask “How Can I Love Myself?” - joking that most spiritual practices sound like a Nike advertisement as their response to this question is often “JUST DO IT!” - Mikis believes that the way to loving ourselves is simple but we are blind to it, due to the paradox of pride (it being a sin and all.) I quote, “Whenever I am faced with a choice, if I make the choice that would make me proud rather than comfortable and safe, I am well on the way to loving myself.” I see this like a glass “self love” thermometer: Each time I do something that makes me feel proud, my self love thermometer fills up with that shiny red pride juice! I personally have struggled with loving myself and easily find myself unmotivated, unhappy and just plain not able to see how beautiful my life is! I feel not only uninspired and flat, I feel ungrateful and find myself waiting for “something” to happen. The skies have been a lighter shade of grey since returning to Canada, which is why I am dedicating this fresh new month of February to engraining this way of being and filling myself with the love I deserve. For the next 28 days, I will slowly begin to crawl, walk and eventually leap myself from this wintery cave of hibernation. I will be stalking myself to feel pride in every corner, sharing 1 of my “Good For Me!” finds, on IG: @phoebe_van_der_wart If you are feeling inspired, please join along & share with your friends who need this. Big or small, with a hand on my heart or my hands to the sky! #GoodForMe -Phoebe   From down here the floor creaks
I hope that you are not struggling. I know it’s been over a year I hope that you are not struggling. The shuffle of your feet, the clanking of your brush The music intensifies, pulls at the heart I wish I could watch, but I know you need peace I hope that you are not struggling. I wonder which colour covers your canvas or have you chosen black or white? What thoughts are going through your head Do you feel you’ve lost it? I hope that you are not struggling. The music quiets down and I remember that there is always struggle before you breakthrough From down here, the floor creaks I hope that you are not struggling. My old house had two dishwashers with two giant sinks and I still managed to go to bed at night with the sinks full and dishes all over the counters… which also means, waking up like that. The ritual of “putting the sink to bed” is a new one for my life. Putting the sink to bed means all dishes washed, cleaned, put away, not a spot of “gunk” in the sink, a *spritz* of cleaner, a counter wipe AND a sweep of the floor. Although this creates more work at night (when sometimes bed is really calling) it also creates space to give gratitude / pay respect to the space and is a much more luxurious place to make your coffee when you start your day. “Putting your sink to bed” - one to consider for the New Years Resolution. ☀️  So many different omens, both good and bad An owl at my doorstep Wisdom, magic or death to be had? A messenger from spirit delivering a baby? Or simply a predator who smells the cat, maybe? Either way he was a delight to arrive with the snow A twinkle of magic, now FLY, off you go! The journey towards the completion of my first cement sculpture. I didn’t expect to ever be “one of the girls” - this was something that was scary for me since I was young, though at the same time it’s what I truly wanted. I never felt like I belonged, calling my mom from slumber parties in the middle of the night in sheer terror, begging her to come take me home, calling mom from cheerleading camp asking her to come pick me up - being among a group of girls with no escape scared me, the voices that told me they didn’t like me were so loud in my head and I felt I couldn’t connect because I was “different”. Whether I have finally found my girls that are just like me or I have finally chosen to belong is irrelevant. Today, though the fear still lingers, I choose to ignore the voices, pushing through my resistance. Today my heart is happy, feeling one with and being “one of the girls”. I love you 💜 The new queens of Chocopelli art studio in Peru at Tierra Mitica |
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