This was never planned...

I happened upon you..

Wasn't expecting you...

This was not in my plans.

But you arrived and somehow, you slipped under the radar.

But our clock is not set at the right time.

You're clock and mine click too loudly against each other.

While mine is set at 12 noon, the hands of yours push to 6

The familiarity of your smile and laugh,

As though I may have met you in another time, in another life.

You're presence scares the hell out of me and I know I do the same to you.

It would be easier to write you off...pretend we never met...

settle down in my comfortable place of shutting you out.

And while you choose to take a different journey than I,

And though our paths may only have crossed for a moment.

You have touched me and etched a lovely memory, of "I happened upon you, didn't expect you, this was not in my plans" kind of joy.

And your temporary presence...

Made me smile.

Brick by Brick...I see you...

I wished ...

I prayed...

You arrived.

I ran.

Feeling safer in a place of unrest. Giving in to ideals of what a man should be, should look like, should offer, should not offer. Being aware that much of this is bullshit, but choosing to continue the mess from the messages my mother told me, who was told by her mother and her mothers mother. These messages that we have allowed to seep into our brain and stir up our souls. The kind that make stupid mistakes. Mistakes that make us ..

Wish..

Pray..

Run..

Taking a deep breath when I do finally run, and look back and don't see you there, then suddenly realizing that running doesn't feel as good as I thought it would. That perhaps if I had thought about it a bit longer, chose to stay and embrace your goodness, accept your invitation to love, create a new story that spells out that there is no need to run.

So tonight

I take apart the wall that's been up for so many years. Brick by brick..and while this wall is high, and strong and at times impossible. I will attempt to take it down and if I can't...I'll climb over it to reach you on the other side.

I'm tired of running. It's time to walk towards you.

The baby blue running jacket...

Seven years ago, after a drawn out break up, I was determined to keep myself busy. Calling close friends and setting up a schedule to ensure that I did everything from movie night, to crafts, to anything that would keep me from thinking about "him". Every day, I'd drive by this store where I saw packs of crazy people, running in groups on the side of the road, and as I sometimes splashed them as I drove by, it didn't seem to matter; They kept running.

Somewhere between the heavy schedule laid out by my friends and the "don't call him, call me" phone calls from my tightest crew, I began to feel like I needed something more. If those people can run, so can I right? I signed up without thinking about it and was set to start the following week. The day of, I almost drove past. Couldn't imagine what I was thinking. It was winter, my hair would get wet..I'd surely get splashed on the side of the road like the people I splashed almost every day.. But I pulled in, walked through the doors, and in that moment, I didn't realize, what an amazing life lesson I would learn.

I laced up my running shoes and picked out a baby blue running jacket that all the other pack members seemed to wear in the colours of their choice. With light reflecting strips down my arms and on my back, I took my first step. Week after week, I went back. Daring to do just a little bit more. Push a little bit more. And the more I ran, the less my heart seemed to hurt. The farther I went, the farther "he" stayed out of my mind. Weeks later, my body started changing, I felt alive.

I made friends with 3 other women. All from different walks of life. On the street, we would never have met. All from different backgrounds, some older and some younger than others. It didn't matter. We were the "sex in the city" girls, except with running shoes on and a few pounds to lose..I took the role of Carrie of course..lol. We ran our first marathon months later. Crossing that finish line, taught me, that in order to get to where you need to be, you need to be able to believe that you can.

Then I got hurt.

Running to fast too quickly, my ankles and the soles of my feet ached for me to stop. I didn't run again until 3 weeks ago.

I put back on my blue running jacket that held secrets and history of all the conversations and laughter and sometimes even tears, that the four running woman shared, as we ran in the early morning or late at night under an observing moon. I stood in front of the mirror and remembered why I put this jacket on in the first place. This time, I put it on for a whole new reason. Not for anyone else. Not because I was trying to forget, but because I want to take that first step again. Run that marathon because it makes my body feel good. Not because I need to distract myself from a heart too heavy to keep up with my busying feet.

It's funny. Whenever I see packs of women running in their jackets, I often think. "What's their story? Are there stories hidden in the pockets of those jackets? Are they the woman I was 7 years ago? Are they running because of pure joy? or are they trying to forget? Regardless, they are running.

I have a new friend who has put on her running jacket. And for whatever reason she has chosen to zip up and hit the road, we're doing it together. Every kilometre, every extra minute we put on the clock, is another minute that confirms our success. The snow blows, the rain falls down on me and wets up my hair, the hail beats against my cheeks until they feel numb..but it's a wonderful feeling.

Daring to do something that you never thought you could do, is the greatest feeling in the world. And what started out as a mission to forget, is now a wonderful memory of strength, sore feet, wet socks, friendship and laughter.

It began with a baby blue running jacket.

Take that first step with your life. You'll be happy that you did.

Rachael-lea

What I know for sure...My Oprah moment...

What I know for sure..

I love chocolate,

The smell of gasoline, liquid paper, and fresh cut grass.

I love warm clothes out of the dryer,

The sun on my face,

And a deep uncontrollable belly laugh..

What I know for sure..

I love the sound of crickets,

the smell of a baby's neck,

Hot baths,

freshly painted toes (with no bed sheet marks)

Roller coasters,

Musicals

And a good yawn..

What I know for sure,

Is without fail, my little dog will love me and lick my feet because she knows when i need it most.

Unconditional love even when I step on her paw by accident.

What I know for sure,

Is that friends will fall away,

become acquaintances...

Perhaps we'll pass on the street like strangers,

And the very few who remain,

Will love me at my most high,

They'll make me tea,

Wipe my tears,

Laugh with me,

Understand jokes just between us,

Tell me everything will be ok,

even if they secretly worry it won't.

What I know for sure,

Is there will always be people in the world who will try and intimidate you,

Hurt you,

Be disloyal to you,

And we won't always see past the reality of where it all stems,

We'll get hurt, not realizing,

That the Bully has been bullied, the one who hurts, is hurt

The one who is disloyal, probably doesn't have someone to lean on.

Send them love...but don't allow them in your space.

What I know for sure,

Is that I have many great ideas and thoughts,

But not all of them are what I was destined to do.

So I tuck some of them away,

But put the ones that mean the most to me on the top of my list.

What I know for sure,

I hate the gym,

Stairwells get me,

And an excercise routine is a chore,

But the feeling I get from doing it,

Is gratifying and a small win each time I do.

What I know for sure..

I have a temper,

I say things without thinking,

I sometimes don't speak up enough.

I sometimes put myself second,

I've loved the wrong men,

And haven't loved the right ones..

But each time,

I get closer,

Better.

Nearer to the man I NEED, not WANT.

What I know for sure,

I draw closer to family,

I have become my mother,

I appreciate time with them like never before.

But most of all,

What I know for sure,

Is that I am learning, growing, freeing myself from old habits, and trying to form new ones.

I'm dreaming, fighting for what I believe in, loving, appreciating and expressing more.

Eliminating no from my vocabulary, asking for what I need. Giving breath to what matters most..

And through it all,

I'm ok with me.

Just the way I am.

For Every Woman Who's Gone on Vacation- My All Inclusive Man

I met him on the beach

While i was working on my tan

He said something in spanish

That i still don’t understand

But it really doesn’t matter

Cuz he’s such a sexy man

This poem is dedicated to

My all inclusive man.

His teeth were white like diamonds,

And his skin was sun kissed brown,

He watched me as i lost my speech,

And looked him up and down.

And though not very stylish,

His pants were way too tight,

His shirt the early 90’s

And his “hip hop”

Not quite right.

But when he took a hold of me,

You wouldn’t understand,

The magic that can happen,

With an all inclusive man.

He thought my name was “Risho”

Rachael didn’t come out right,

Oh Risho, You’re so sexy,

as he held my body tight.

The only words that I had learned,

From my tour guide in the day,

Was Cervaca, Ola, Mi Amor,

Had nothing more to say.

But my all inclusive Jose,

Made it all just seem ok,

Because the latin language needed,

was only needed in the day.

He asked me who I’m here with,

If my husband is near by,

I told him that I’m single,

And he says “oh mami..why”

He tells me “God,I love you’

And that I should stop my search,

Because he’s a senior pastor

And my body is his church.

Now don’t think I got it twisted,

I knew it was a fling,

But I thought I’d let you know,

Jose, he taught me many things

Jose, he liked them chunky,

My curves he held on tight,

He rolled me like a dumplin,

and although I’d try to fight,

I had an ah ha moment,

And it all just seemed alright,

My all inclusive Jose,

Loved me up throughout the night.

The next day by the pool,

My walk it had a swing,

I whistled as I sashayed,

Did a meringue /salsa thing

I ordered my Cervaca,

and then I wished upon a star

Dear God,

Please let all the men in Toronto turn into Joses

Minus the really tight pants and the shiny “Stiches” shirt.

Please god, let all of them like chubby girls and let all skinny girls

break their ankles while dancing on the dance floor.

Amen.

Ok, back to the poem.

I left just 3 days later,

And as the plane touched down,

I was greeted by Toronto boys,

Who live with me downtown.

The ones that stand in night clubs,

And never speak a sound.

You know the ones,

The pretty boys,

Who dress up to the nines,

No need to ask a girl to dance because they know their fine?

And their pants they’re fitted perfectly

Their shirts are always sharp,

But when it comes to romance,

They’re completely in the dark.

I’m sorry guys,

You might be mad,

You might not understand,

Perhaps I’ll give your email

To my All inclusive man,

And he can give you pointers

So you can change your action plan.

Because,

HEY!

I heard you women’s on vacation,

And she’s got and all inclusive man!

When you hate your job this much.... it's time to find another one. The definition of corporate madness.

Blind for a Night...

I take for granted what I have. I wrinkle up my nose at the lady with the bad smelling perfume beside me on the train (SMELL), or the young teenager that's playing his music from a beat up cell phone without earphones so the whole subway train can hear it (HEARING). I get annoyed when someone sits too closely to me and leans a little too hard against me as the subway rocks back and forth (TOUCH). I grumble as I get out of bed and see the winter blizzard blowing from outside my window (SIGHT). I gasp as I eat something that doesn't please my palette (TASTE)..and what I don't realize is...I take it all for granted.

Tonight, I took my friend Ashley out for a birthday dinner. Thinking, what could I do that would be original and different. What have I never done before? A friend of mine suggested I visit a restaurant called NOIR. "You'll love it Rach, it's a whole new experience, it's dining in the dark". Dining in the dark? Really? Now that was something I had to try. Knowing my track record, I felt it wise to dress in black that day. I can barely keep light colors tidy when I'm not in the dark, surely I would embarrass myself if it was anything other than black.

We arrived at 620 Church Street and headed down a flight of stairs that lead to a lobby that looked like an old library. A Sherlock Holmes kind of feel with a bar! LOL...Old book shelves and a mysterious feel to it. On the wall was a quote that really summed up the whole evening

The quote said "There is no darkness but ignorance".

We were greeted by a hostess who then told us that our server would be Michael and he is visually impaired. She knocked on a door and shortly afterwards, Michael came out and greeted us. We were asked to stand in a row, with our right hand on the person in front of us, and Michael then led us to the table.

It sort of felt like I was playing a game of Marco Polo, minus the pool. Trusting on my other senses, and Michael of course, to get us to the table.

But then the fun began.

You never know how much you rely on your sight, until it's taken away. Where the hell is the butter? My knife? The glass of juice I ordered. You can't see a thing, it's pitch dark and after a while your eyes get so tired of searching for light, that you just end up closing them. I could have guessed that there might have been about 5 other tables in the room. But who the heck knows? LOL! I heard voices, I smelled the food, I listened more to Ashley and wasn't distracted by things that would make me drift away from the conversation. No cell phones, no internet access, nothing, but darkness and good conversation.

When the food arrived I was excited. Some swayed me from going there, saying "what if the food drops on the floor", "what if it's recycled"...I had to trust that the awards upon awards that this restaurant had been given, was reason to trust that I'd enjoy my meal. It was delicious! Mind you, I started out attempting to eat with a knife and fork, but after poking my cheek with my fork several times, and losing my knife somewhere on the table, I said "screw it"...and ate with my hands. Yes, that's right. I ate my steak, potatoe wedges and portabello mushrooms with the 10 instruments God gave me, my hands. And hey, no one could see me anyway, so what's the big deal? Ashley and I laughed as we succesffully finished each plate that was handed to us by Michael. He'd rest it on our shoulder so we could grab it and put it down in front of us.

Our conversations were intense, and we could not rely on facial expressions to get our messages across. Words seem to have more meaning and the sound of my friends voice seemed more clear than ever before.

After about an hour and half of eating in the dark, we were lead from the table to the door that would bring us back to light. Ashley and I felt like we were seeing for the first time in years.

And as we paid the staff for the wonderful meal, and grabbed our coats and headed back to the car, we gazed at the street lights, the colors, the passing cars and thanked God that we did have our sight.

We know our server Michael doesn't end his shift the way we did that night. We know he doesn't walk into the light and see the traffic lights and the whizzing cars. But we do know that he appreciates life differently than we do. He listens, he hears things that we take for granted, his taste buds must come alive when he sits down to a meal.

Do I recommend NOIR? Absolutely worth the time and money. It's one of the places in Toronto that you must visit before you die! Step out of your box and try something new.

We are so glad we did.

P.S- a great date night if you need to test how well you can communicate with your partner. You'll have fun, but also realize if your relationship can hold up when you can't stare into each

others eyes.

NOIR is located at

416-922-NOIR

The Crazy Man at Starbucks

Since moving downtown I've learned a couple of things.

Learn the transit,

Drink Starbucks because Tim Hortons is just too Suburban and unhip,

And ignore the crazy people.

When I first moved to Toronto, I couldn't help but notice them. Even more disturbing was the "sane" people who walked passed them, Ignored them, told them to go get a job. "How cruel" I thought. How could people be so cold? How can you just walk past another human being like they were a crumpled up piece of garbage they found lying on the floor.

Fast forward 3 years later.

I have become one of those people. The kind of person who walks by my fellow city dwellers who hang out near the Princess of Whales theatre, or the local grocery stores. I choose not to see them. They annoy me. They should certainly go and get a job.

But for the past couple of months I've taken a new route to work.

I drive my electric bike and stop off at the local Starbucks in the morning for my morning dose of my ethically grown and environmentally friendly cup of Java. "Good for me" I say, as I read the side of the Starbucks cup that proudly announces that just by stopping in and buying a cup, I have helped Starbucks help farmers in several countries. I have contributed to employing more and more farmers around the world. I am doing my job to help others. Am I?

It's a morning ritual for me. Every morning, like clock work, I grab my coffee.

Every morning I also see the crazy man on the patio who chants prayers in a language I don't understand. Every morning, I take a seat on the same patio and read the Metro paper online from my Iphone. And every morning, I get to know the crazy man a little bit more.

He's tanned. His skin tells stories of travel and his eyes have a history so deep that I often want to ask, but I don't.

Who are you?

Where's your family?

Where do you live?

People stare at him and laugh and I find myself getting angry. Because beneath his weathered skin and misunderstood body language, I see a spirit and a man that has a heart.

Yesterday, I sat a little closer to him. He knows me now. I looked up at him today and smiled at him and softly nodded my head.

He nodded back.

He's my crazy Starbucks friend who says nothing to me every morning but in a strange way, almost checks in to see if I'm there.

And now I'm starting to realize, that sometimes people label others crazy, when someone doesn't look like them, talk like them, think like them. We label them unfortunate and underprivileged. Meanwhile, most of us head to a job we hate and go home to a neighborhood where we don't know our neighbors. My Starbucks friend talks to the birds and they seem to talk back. He has a higher level of connectedness with God than most. But he is unfortunate, right?

I watch him as he stretches his arms out towards the sky as if to do some kind of yoga that my undiagnosed ADD would never have patience for.

He seems happy.

He seems at peace.

My Starbucks friend is far more in tune with himself than any sane downtowner I know.

And although we'll never speak the same language,

And we may never sit exactly at the same table.

I understand him, and he understands me,

And you know,

That's not so crazy.

I'm a writer..

I'm a writer.

That's what I've been telling myself and thankfully there is some proof of it on the web and in a local magazine every three months.

I'm a writer.

But the fact of the matter is, lately, I've chosen to take the title without doing the work.

I'm too busy, life is hectic, I just don't have time..

I just don't have time for one of the things that brings me pure joy.

I'm a writer.

I sometimes wonder if I'm the only one that doesn't make as much time as they should to do what God has put me here to do.

The other day, one of my friends, who just so happens to be doing her writing, put a quote on her wall. It affected me so greatly that I actually wanted to ignore it, but I couldn't. Couldn't ignore the blatant message that I needed to hear.

And that quote said

"When I stand before God, at the end of my life, I would hope I could say I don't have a single talent left. I used everything you gave me!" ...thanks for that trey.

I tried to shove it off, pretend it didn't bother me.

But when people ask..

I tell them.

I'm a writer.

So I ask you..

What is it that you are NOT doing in your life that brings you pure joy?

Are you dancing like you should be? Singing? Baking? Knitting?

What is it in your life that you have decided is no longer essential because it's "not realistic" or can't pay your cable bill. And the second question is, what are you replacing it with? Empty fillers? A job that pays the bills but doesn't fill your soul with satisfaction?

I'm afraid, I let life get the better of me. Let excuses take over and allowed myself to become the people I sighed at as they made their way along the sidewalk, scurrying along going nowhere more important than what they really should be doing...their passion.

So,

I'm a writer.

And it's necessary for me to do the one thing that allows me to drift away. The one thing that doesn't put limits on the what I believe. Allows me to tell stories the way I want them to. I am free to make my forever afters, play by my rules. It's the one place where I can be whoever I choose to be, meet whoever I want to meet, dream whatever dreams I choose to dream.

Because,

I am a writer.

And it's time I start writing.

Someone else's STUFF

Today,

I allowed someone to affect me in ways I never thought they would. I allowed someone to spew their "stuff" all over me, and their words dripped down my shoulders and somehow found a way to soak into my spirit.

Today, I allowed someone to dictate how the rest of my day should go.

I walked slower, my shoulders slouched, my eyes got red and I felt an angry cry coming. For me, an angry cry is a dangerous cry. It's not the type of cry where one weeps against a rock by a babbling brook, rather, an angry cry makes staplers whip across a room, and makes old ladies with canes jump out of the way. Today I felt to do that angry cry.

I held it back.

Held it back because I've been told "Never let them see you cry". It's a form of weakness. And although I don't subscribe to that "suck it up" mentality,today, I did.

I came home, lit my over priced Bath and Body works candle, turned on my music and turned off the phone. Sat in it. Felt what I needed to feel without any disruptions.

And I realized, today, that person had to get me mad. This person had to insult my intelligence, had to overwhelm me with their ego..all of this had to happen, so I could remember, that this was all my choice.

Instead of taking the easy road of "poor me", I am choosing to remember that I have a choice to accept this behavior, or turn away from it.

These are also moments that need to be cherished.

Today, I will try and bottle this feeling.

Remember exactly how I felt in that moment.

So the next time I rush someone while they are speaking, choose to always think I'm right, put my "stuff" all over someone without them asking for it, accuse, judge or pretend that someone's opinion doesn't matter. I'll remember how I feel today.

To me, I experienced a small gift that came in the form of a slap. Not a physical slap. No forms of violence at all. But the kind of slap that needs no words, just looks. The kind of slap that doesn't speak, but doesn't allow you to speak either. A message from God that whispered, "My child, you're wasting every moment you have here"...

But the beauty of this day is, that at the end of the day,

I still know who I am,

Where I want to be,

And who I want to surround myself with.

So I set the bath, listened to some Yolanda Adams, closed my eyes and washed away the "stuff".

And I thank God at the end of the day that I have a door that I can close, a bath that I can stretch out in, a computer I can play music on, and the peace of mind that I am greater than someone else's STUFF.

I want to be in love...

I want to be in love

I want to be in love,
Not a regular kind of every day love,
But the kind of love that doesn’t make me focus at work,
Lose track of time,
Get sunburned while sitting by the water,
Thinking about you.

I want to be in love,
The kind of love that makes me eat foods I wouldn’t usually try,
Just because I want to taste what makes your taste buds come alive.

If I’m going to be in love,
The kind of love I’m looking for,
makes flowers talk,
the air smell sweet,
and when you're with me.
Time stands still,
Burdens fall away,

I want to be in love.
So I can wrap surprises in pretty pieces of paper
and leave it under your pillow.
Burn food on the stove I’ve never made
from cookbooks I’d never usually buy
in an attempt to make you the perfect meal.

And when I do finally make that meal
We never eat it anyway.
The food gets cold because
There’s no time to eat...
Food.

The kind of love
that doesn’t need words,
You don't have to give me your last Rolo,
I already know what's mine is yours,
what's yours is mine.


I want to be in love,
the kind of love where you meet in my dreams
and when you meet me there,
We talk about how great it will be
when you meet me in the morning.

I want to be in love.
But for now,
I’ll write this poem
tuck it away amongst the packages of surprises I’ve yet to wrap and place under your pillow.

Hide it between the pages of the cookbooks I’ve yet to buy.

Because one day.

I’ll be in love.

Girls That Smoke

I blame it on Brampton.

Perhaps my desire to fit in, be cool...be like the Fonz.

Some of my earliest memories of cigarettes were the ones my parents used to store in a small mahogany box in the "fancy room" that you only go in when company comes over.

When no one was looking, I'd go into that room, open the box up and smell the little white sticks lined neatly in that box.

For those of you who have never smoked a cigarette, an unsmoked cigarette actually has a sweet sort of smell to it and the kind of smell that brings me back to days of watching my parents wind down at the end of the day, in the room kids don't go in unless company comes over.

Being a child of the 80's, a time where kids were still actually afraid of their parents, I dared not take one.

Instead, my friend Colleen and I would make make shift cigarettes from grass and paper and try and smoke it. Didn't quite work out.

But the day did come.

The day I had my first cigarette. In the girls washroom in high school. Hanging out with the "cool girls" who wore telephone coil hair extensions and walked with a strut that I wanted to emulate.

Now most of us will find a way to put blame on others for their smoking habits. I don't. This was all me.

And it took me over 15 years to realize that it was time to stop. Stop before it stopped me.

5 months ago, my good friend Sean introduced me to an audio book called Allen Carr's easy way to stop smoking. I secretly laughed at him when he said "just try it Rach". I had tried everything; the pills, the patch...infact, I'd put a patch on, rip it off, smoke, and then put the patch back on.

All along, I knew it was disgusting habit and one thing is for sure.

Boys don't like girls who smoke.

But I couldn't stop.

I'd have fights with boyfriends on dates, just so I could leave and have a long awaited cigarette that I yearned for. Screw date night... I just wanted to smoke.

But as much as I laughed at this little audio book. That little audio book has had me smoke free for 5 months now. And I don't think Sean realized it but he's literally saved my life.

So,

If your a smoker...

It's time to stop.

And I'm not going to harp on you, or shake a finger at you...because God knows that doesn't work. But I will tell you that if a girl like me who has been fascinated by cigarettes from the age of about 5, can finally turn away from it...

So can you.

Today, a man walked by me and blew cigarette smoke in my face..

and I thought to myself..

the little white sticks in the mahogany boxes really didnt' smell that great.

If you do anything for yourself...

may it be over eating

bad self talk,

drugs or any kinds of addictions...

get help.

Don't let anything over power you that much that you risk your life for it.

It's just not worth it.

And if you need help.

I'm here.

Rachael-Lea

I shifted somewhere between Front and Queen Street...

Most recently, I started reading a book called "The Art of Extreme Self Care" by Cheryl Richardson. My friend trey had read it and it seemed to have made a huge impact on her life almost immediately. I have to say, it's done the same for me.

It's an easy read and I carry it with me on the street car and read it when I can. The street car is my time to zone out and just let the driver take me to my destination without the care of having my hands on the wheel. A few days ago, somewhere between Front and Queen Street, I had a shift.

I've always been one who wants to please. Please my parents, please my friends, please my fans. Please others. To be that good daughter, good friend, good community leader. Saying yes to things when I really want to say no, and in the end, disappointing others when I seem to waver back and forth. No is a hard word for me, and so me and Mr.No will be spending a lot of time together over the next little while. Be ok in his company, learn to say it more often, enjoy saying it without fear or guilt. A difficult task, but a necessary one.

Most recently, I've made some very big choices to take projects off my plate that no longer serve me like they used to, and while I hurt some people in the process, I had to be ok with that.

I'm arguing less.

I've always been the one who needs to "be right" or at least go down with a good fight.

I'm tired of fighting.

I'm walking away from the battles and choosing to live a more peaceful life.

I'm having conversations with my parents that are way over due, because time is precious and not on our side.

My friend Jem jokes with me sometimes, because lately, I seem to want to do everything. I want to learn to kick box, I want to salsa, I want to laugh more, learn to sail, travel to foreign countries. And for an outsider looking in, yup, I might seem a bit nuts.

To me...

I think I'm realizing how wonderful and precious life is, and it's about time that I enjoy every moment of it.

And so...

I'm really not sure what inspired this blog tonight. Maybe to put this down somewhere so that I might look back on it and remind myself how joyous I feel in this very minute.

Maybe I'm writing it because there's someone out there who's wasting their precious life talking about what they "can't" do, instead of what they can.

But either way, somewhere between Front and Queen Street, on a TTC street car...My thought patterns have changed and my soul feels lighter.

And I hope yours will too.

Rachael-Lea

I thank you for the lump in my throat...

I've got a lump in my throat.

The kind of lump that if a glass of water would wash away,

I'd drink it by the gallons.

But no matter how much water I drink.

I still have a lump in my throat.

As much as I don't want that lump in my throat..

That lump...

Reminds me that I am human.

That my heart beats

and that it feels

and that it is alive.

I have to remember...

Every lump I've ever gotten in my throat...

Has always been a blessing.

Rachael-lea

The Dinner Mint in ME....

Being the co-writer of I am NOT a Dinner Mint, a play that touched thousands of women's lives a few years back, comes with a certain degree of responsibility. Motivating women (and men) to make wiser choices. To stand up for themselves, to put themselves first, to avoid at all costs ...being a DINNER MINT.

I recognize this responsibility..and at times, it weighs heavy on me. The very words I had written, the very advice I would give, would be the same situations that would come back to haunt me this year.

2009 for me was one of the most life changing years I've had. It was a year for stepping out. I said at the beginning of the year that this would be the year I walked through fear. I can say I accomplished that.

Just a year ago, I was a scared little Bramptonian who wouldn't dare go anywhere unless it was in a car. I sold my car, moved downtown, traded in my Mazda for a TTC bus pass. For the first few months, I spent travelling around the city while gripping tightly to a TTC map. I now travel with ease, and get around farther than I ever did in my Mazda.

I opened Broadway Bound, the first theatre academy that I know of, that deals particularly with self esteem issues through theatre. I inspired children and plan to inspire more in 2010.

I launched the All Thing Rachael-Lea speaking forums with Inside His Head and "I know this REALLY great guy"..

But, and there is a BUT....I will admit, there have been challenges.

This year, love has been my challenge. I love love. Love to fall in love... but this year, I chose to love and it bit me right in the ass! LOL!

While my creative endeavours soared.

My heart sank.

I found myself once again being attracted to "Mr.Emotionally Unavailable". A sucker for a bad boy, I admit it.

This year 3 of my ex boyfriends got married. And as I looked over their pictures or received emails from them with the news, although my heart felt happy for them, there was a part of me that couldn't help but reflect. Each of those men who are now married, just like in the play, were very available, loving men who wanted to share their lives with me. I wouldn't have any part in it.

This year, I believe God brought 3 very unique and different men into my life. They challenged me and that excited me. I wanted to "conquer" them. I wanted to prove that you can always have what you want if you work at it. What I didn't realize is that my determination with my work, does not always apply to the heart.

So, I sit here tonight, not sure where this blog is going. Not sure why I decided to write it tonight, but know that it's time that I pick up the script of I am NOT a Dinner Mint. It's time I read it again. It's time that I not only inspire others to be the best they can be, but take some time to inspire myself.

I do no regret 2009. For there are far too many blessings, and as my mother says "that would be flying in God's face....whatever that means...how can you fly in Gods face...Caribbean mothers for you"

But I will pat myself on the back for everything brave I have done this year and I take a deep breath in and believe that love is right around the corner.

I still believe in Love and I thank those 3 men for all the learning lessons I was given this year.

I wish you love. I wish me love.

So for tonight, I am the audience within my own play. This play will run with no closing date planned. There will be no intermissions, and I plan to jump out of my seat and give a full standing ovation when the story is complete.

I'm in my 30's...BUT...I am NOT a Cougar!

The other day I was frantically looking for a pair of boots. Being a skinny legged girl, finding a pair of boots that fit me, is like finding a girdle that looks cute ...it just doesn't happen. While looking in shoe aisle...I heard a woman not too far away from me say "God dam it, I just want to find a comfortable pair of boots, I'm in my 30's man, I just want to be comfortable"...I laughed to myself and gave her the thumbs up. We both understood. Being in my 30's brings me to whole new place. A place where I am comfortable. I still believe in sexy...just not necessarily 9 inches off the floor all the time. My days of killer heels...are officially over. Now that's not to say I won't sacrifice a night of heels that shoot me to the sky and make my calves pop, but wearing them every day? Get the hell out of here! Forget that!

That experience brought me to my next thought.

I think sometimes there is a misconception about women in their 30's. That for some reason, when a woman moves into (what is by the way, probably the sexiest time of her life) her 30's, she begins to be categorized as a cougar. For me, I still have not embraced this word. I'm not going to try and cute it up either, by calling myself a sexy tiger, a jaguar or whatever else women try and use. Let me be very clear, that I DO NOT embrace this word. If you do...knock yourself out sister, I'm just not joining in with you.

When I think about a cougar, I think about an animal that is ready to pounce on her unsuspecting prey. To devour them alive without even a chance to run. I my friend, am not a "pouncer" and do not plan to eat any man alive (unless fully intentional..lol) Why is it when men get older, they are not named after some animal?

A man once said to me, when women get older, they go down in value...when men get older, their stocks rise? Are you kidding me right now? I feel I am in the most valuable time of my life. I am much more certain about who I am and what I stand for. I am ok to say NO. I do not define myself by age. I define myself by the amount of dreams I have accomplished.

Ok, let's get back to the definition of a cougar. For me, a cougar is the definition of a woman who is much older and searches out the company of a younger man. Yes? But lately, I've been hearing that if you're older and single and not married, like it or not...you're a cougar...

I suppose there will always be groups of people who embrace words. Fat, is now PHAT, and plus size women everywhere are embracing those words...I wish I could be one of those women, but I'm just not.

So, I'd like to personally ban this word. Because due to what others may think, not all women in their 30's have the words "please date me and marry me quick because my ovaries are screaming" scrolled across their foreheads. Not all women in their 30's want or desire the company of a younger man. Not all women in their 30's feel the need to be something they are not.

I don't need to dress provocatively to be sexy. In fact, the less provocative I dress, I think it's actually much sexier.

I drove by a bunch of 20 something women last night who were standing outside of a night club. Shivering their asses off, wearing next to nothing. I remember being that girl. And as I slipped off my flat heeled but sexy boots last night. Turned on the fireplace in my bedroom and snuggled into bed...I knew that although I am brave like a lion, and make space for myself in this city like a cougar does in her den, I am not a cougar. I am sexy 30 something who knows who she is and demands from others what she deserves.

Celebrating My Ex's Birthday

This weekend, I attended the birthday of my ex boyfriend. It's funny how life can change and shift. The very man who at one point in my life, I felt I could never live without, thought I'd absolutely crumble when it ended, who inspired me to write, get angry, cry and swear off pretty boys...was the same man that I now looked across the table at and felt nothing but happiness for. So much so, that his new girlfriend and I have become quite good friends. Lots of my friends don't understand it. Heck, at times, I don't understand it, but I know it is what it is.

So many people have problems with ex's remaining friends. It is possible you know. Once my heart shifts, I place you in a different category of love. I love you for what you have brought to my life, what you have taught me, but that doesn't mean I want to jump in the sack with you. Infact, once my heart shifts...guaranteed, that will never happen again.

I may, like you, have cursed the ex's in my life. Looking back, sure..there have been the one or two that I said "what the hell was I thinking", but for the most part, I really have to thank each and every man in my life for what they taught me. Helped me to be the woman I am today. I know that with each relationship, I got better. I made better choices and zoned in on what I need from a partner. I also believe I sometimes attracted the same type of men, because there was a lesson I still hadn't learned. I'm still learning. I probably will continue to learn for the rest of my life. But that's ok.

I'm a lover. I believe in love and will continue to fall in love. I love being in love and I love the idea of love. But in the same breath, I've grown. What used to attract me, no longer interests me.

For the first time in my life I can honestly say that I'm ok with my own company. Sure the sounds of Christmas music, and the lights on the trees got me feeling all mushy. Who wouldn't want a special someone to share this special moments with? I also understand there is a very big difference with being "lonely" and being "alone". I am not Lonely, but I am so ok with being alone. Are you?

It has taken me many years to realize the value of spending time with myself. I ride the bus and I read. I spend time in my house just listening to music and dreaming. I don't need a television to keep me company. I am ok with silence. That's taken me a long time.

It's funny, because for instance, when my friend Caden doesn't hear from me for the day, I get a call with him asking "is everything ok". I think sometimes people think you're in some kind of weird depression if you choose to stay silent. Silence makes a lot of people feel uncomfortable.

So, with that said. I raised a glass this weekend as I watched my ex boyfriend and his girlfriend ring in his birthday. I was there to celebrate it, and I felt happy for them. Really happy. But in the end, I am also happy for myself because I know, I still believe in love...and have no doubt that one day...He'll be raising a glass for me too.

Happy Birthday Mr. Ex.

My conversation with God...

I filled the bathtub tonight. I filled the water up as high as it would go before overflowing onto the floor and I sat there. Not sure where this pulling came from, or why tonight..but I just followed what felt right.

Knowing that something has been missing for a little while now, but not sure just what it was. I have a great life. I have wonderful friends, caring and supportive parents and I have done much of which I should be extremely proud of. But something has been missing.

Thinking about the last little while, I realized that what had been missing...was my faith. A feeling as if my vessel needs to be filled with something much bigger than anything I can touch.

Searching for answers to questions from people or things, outside my very inner voice. Trying to push what I think should happen, when it should happen and how it should happen.

I want to jump right in with eyes closed, knowing that my faith is stronger than any barrier. Not afraid of the unknown, but exhilarated about pushing right through what most people fear.

When I am NOT a Dinner Mint was written and produced, I remember clearly standing outside of a theatre with trey, with clenched fists and most of the money to my name, I bet on my dreams..I dared to risk everything in order to love what I do. That very moment will not be forgotten. My faith was huge...

I'm not a big "formal prayer person"..meaning, I dont say the rosary and rarely read the bible. But what I do know is, I believe my God exists. I want to feel him a bit more. I asked God, if he could just brush by me. Could he just blow softly against my cheeks. Could I see the edge of my guardian angels wings as he walks through the corridor of my home. Just show me a little sign that you are there...that's all I ask.

So tonight, I turned off facebook. Turned off the phone. Turned off the world...and I sit in my home in silence. And for the first time in weeks...the busyness in my head...has settled to a soft sound of "nothing"...

I answered one phone call tonight. I wasn't going to. Trey called, and I almost hit "decline"...I took the call. Told her what was going on with me. She said she had been to church today, and the pastor had talked about the very thing I was talking with God about earlier. That you either live in a place of fear, or faith. And that the pastor had talked about using your soul as an empty vessel...WOW!

So, I suppose that phone call was a small three way from God. And although I have not seen any guardian angel wings hanging out in my downtown condo, and I haven't felt his breath against my face.

Just for tonight...I know ...You've heard me.

Judging a book by it's cover...

Have you ever judged a book by it's cover and then had to take back all your assumptions ?

Ever thought you could size someone up by the way they looked, talked, walked, or even the color of their skin? I know I've been guilty of this and I recognize that this is something I have to work harder at. I admit it, I'm shallow sometimes. It's really not a great thing to do. 

Yesterday, I was reminded of this fact. I put people in boxes, give them limitations of what I think they can or can't do, and then BOOM, they knock you off your feet.

I'd like to thank that someone who proved me wrong.....VERY WRONG..

Look in your life and see who you've put in a box. What person have you sized up thinking you know who they are? What opportunities have you missed because you chose to label others?

Take the blinders off and just let people be who they are...

Bet you'd be surprised...

Have a great long weekend everyone...

I'm ok with growing older....

It's my birthday..I woke up this morning feeling really good about the day and thought to myself..why do so many people, particularly woman, have an issue with growing older?

What's so wrong about celebrating the life you have right now. I have been on this earth for 36 years today and I am proud to share that I have earned each one of those years. Now don't get me wrong, if you're in the entertainment industry, sure...you want to keep it down in fear of maybe not getting roles or having people put you in a box, but I'm not great at auditioning anyway and most likely will make the stories and projects I put myself in..so really, count me out for that one.

I grew up in a time of Strawberry Shortcake, friendship pins on shoes, the pop shoppe, Reading Rainbow and Today's Special. Cheez Whiz was new on the shelf, we didn't have microwaves, internet and email didn't exist. And although some of you might say "woah...she's old"....I say...I'm lucky. As a child, we rode our bikes, hung on street corners until almost dark. We spun globes and stopped it with our fingers and imagined that country and what it would be like to live there. I grew up to the Cosby's and "A different world", where Will Smith still wore his hat backwards and sported neon pink, yellow and white sweat tops. I come from a land of Tretorn shoes and Atari games. I wore Toronto Tee's to Wonderland to get in free. I watched Electric Circus and tuned in to Tarzan Dan. I wanted to be Whitney and tied a big bow around my curly hair and sang "How will I know?" in the mirror. Michael Jackson wasn't an icon, he was my boyfriend...at least that's what I'd like to believe. Duran Duran sang "Girls on Film" and I thought I was watching the best porn I could ever see..I remember distinctly only wanting to get that vidoe from the video store for a party, and my Jamaican parents not knowing what it was, obliged. When they saw what it was...I was quickly beaten with a brush...

I lived in a time where kids were afraid to call the childrens aid if they got a spanking...and talking back was not an option.

I drank Pepsi and Coke from the cans that had two holes...remember those? One big one and a smaller one. Chip bags had winning numbers on the back where you could win another bag.

So...

I could go on for years...and I'll save you all the details.

Bottom line, I'm happy to be the woman I am...not afraid to let you know how far I've come... but the most important thing for me...is that I know where I am going.

If this is your birthday today...Happy Birthday!