Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly

Last January I made some determinations, wrote a list of all that I would achieve this year and pinned it onto my pinboard where I would see it each day. Each day something new on that list jumps out, whether it be to be kinder to myself, or to fall in love, to nurture the most important relationships, smile more or to get a new job. All are determinations that I need to be taking charge of daily.

And then there are those that take a little time, like getting a new tattoo or travelling to places I have never been. Those determinations take a little bit more time, some carefully thought out contingency plans and research. Others are about confronting fears and obstacles we put in our way, starting that book I've been writing in my head for so long the words seem like close friends or pitching that great idea to the Georgia Straight or Globe and Mail. Then there are those determinations that push me, physically and mentally such as running that 10k I have been talking about for the past 3 years. Courage, wisdom and determination are the three words I need to keep repeating to myself in order to hold all these fragile pieces together.

"You overanalyse everything", The Gorgeous tells me several weeks back.

I know this, it is as part of me as my skin. Whether this negates my observations, or enhances them is anyone's guess. But for me, I need to see value in every day life; I know I am extremely lucky in the opportunities that I have had and I have worked hard to achieve them. And I take every day as an opportunity to continue to develop who I am, to improve myself.

The Gorgeous tells me not everything has to happen for a reason.
"Sometimes," she says and shrugs her shoulders, "life simply...is."

And indeed life is, simply, life. But surely, in the people we meet, the interactions we encounter or we make or we break, there is value and there are lessons?
A wise man and friend once said to me "Everything is value". And so I carry this saying around with me, try to see the lessons, good or bad, in all my adventures.

"You need to give yourselves foot rubs," another friends tells me, dropping Bach flower remedies into my bottled water. "You are out of your body, you need to ground yourself."

I nod, Bird says the same thing last autumn.

The last few months I have felt out of place, not just physically, not just mentally. Not sad, not blue... just off. I am dizzy, anxious, tired, my energy level dangerously low. I feel as if I am constantly neutral, constantly running on anything but physical energy. A bruised coccyx forces me to stop running for a week, and then another one. I start missing those cold nights along the seawall, my ipod plugged into my ear and the waves crashing along the path. There is a correlation between the two, my body picks up an infection and the antibiotics throw my body out of routine, leave me sluggish, tired, and toxic. My naturopath starts to pin pieces of my health history together, orders blood tests to rule out x, y and z. She cannot rule them all out, suggests something that has not been mentioned before. Symptoms and history fit, I will find out Thursday morning where we can go from here. In my head, I am straddling worst case and best case scenarios and trying not to stay too long on either until I know for sure. Whatever happens, I will walk away with a new found appreciation of how my body works, and hopefully learn not to take it for granted.

Life, simply, is. I add taking charge of my health to my list of determinations.
Then quite by chance, I am given the opportunity for an adventure and come across an artist who is as passionate about the tattoing process as I am. Amelia calls my decision to cover up what I was trying to erase a palimpsest.

I like that. Aren't we always scraping off and writing new after all?

If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies.
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