My Word of the Year Was COURAGE

 

 

I gotta share something with you:

I chose the word COURAGE as the word of the year.  Little did I know how much it was going to take.  Nor did I have an inkling in what ways I would need courage.

After ten years, life became more difficult.  I was in a space where I was not able to take care of myself because life required of me to take care of someone else. My health issues were ramping up.  It had always been there, but I have been a woman of patience, believe it or not.  I tend to always take care of others before myself.  I was starting to have more and more health issues.  I had to take care of myself as best I could, but the issues were gaining ground and I needed to be at my daughter’s for support and care as I transitioned and have been going through weekly appointments, tests, and more appointments and more tests.  The dilation of my heart was, I figure, the hardest one.  I was so proud of myself that I could drive up to Calgary, find where I was staying, and find the heart clinic by myself.  Then I was able to drive the 8-hour trip to Edmonton, to my son’s, at the army base.  I love driving but I am not a big city driver, but I aced it.  I have been able to come back down through the two big cities.  It was huge.  I am on my 78^th circle around the sun.  It all took courage.  But huger courage was need in February. 

I was driving home after a visit in a nearby town and I, suddenly had to pull over because I had a huge explosion in my chest.  I breathed through it and was finally able t drive home.  It was becoming more and more painful.  Instead of driving into our driveway, I drove to a friend’s…our angel neighbor.  I found her in her shop.  I told her I thought I might need to go to emerg.  As she drove, she kept talking to me and I was barely able to answer her.  I never even h4cked in before they rushed me in and hooked me up to everything.  The pain would not subside.  After a few hours of several pain meds, they were able to diagnose what it was:  Pericarditis.  I was so grateful for them.  They had specific drugs for that and I gained relief.  I got to go home and continue on the meds and bedrest.  During tat time, I felt so alone, worried, and came to the conclusion, with my daughter’s help, that I needed to come home.  Then came one of the most courageous things I have had required of me.  I slowly began to pack.  It took me two months for me to tell my partner what I was doing.  I was going home because I was really not doing good and I needed to be near my doctor and my family who could help care for me.  The boxes piled up and we had a yard sale, all the while I was gathering up the courage to tell him.  Two weeks before the end pf April, I sat him down and told him.  Every day for two weeks, I had to repat the whole painful thing.  We cried.  Next day, I had to tell him again.  And the next…and the next.  My daughter and her partner came and stayed overnight loading up a trailer.  The morning we were leaving, he asked, “What’s going on?”  He could not remember.  I had to retell it all again.  Walking away was heartbreaking for all of us.  I felt so much guilt but upon arriving at my daughter’s, a sense of relief.  Every day I hone in the morning and in the evening.  He has many crises but I have him lean on this middle daughter.  He is still alone and not really managing.  I know she is not caring for him.  He continues to say how he needs me there to help him remember things.  I continue to tell him of all my appointments and say I will be back.  I cannot go through the gruesome story any more.  I do have things to collect here, so I will be going back.  That, too, is going to take courage.  It will be the finality.

But my sons are visiting often, I putter around the house, I go through more boxes of art supplies (omg).  I eagerly await my daughter and granddaughter each evening.  They have my Grandson, Teo, 17, coming to stay with me as my daughter and her partner and PJ go to Ghana.  I won’t be alone here if my episodes get worse (they are, in fact, more often and last longer).

Ok, Episodes:

About two years ago, I began having these episodes where I would go down and be like paralyzed from the waist down and it would last about ten minutes before I could get myself up or have help to get up if anyone was around.  They were random.  I could not tell when one was coming other than a numbness that came.  Most times I would be outside, then sometimes they were inside.  Only a couple of times, my partner was there to help me up. Most times, I would be outside and sprawled in the rain or snow.  I had one when I had gone to the vehicle to get something but I never made it back and I dented the side of the house in my fall. Again, they were random.  

When I had pericarditis, I started having full body episodes without falling down.  It would start like a foot going to sleep that would go up thew right side of my body.  I had told the dr, and he said to breathe through it.  He began sending me to all kinds of lung and heart specialists and tests.  Now, they are coming more frequently and lasting longer.  It is not really a pain.  It is more a burning heat as it fills my chest.  Then the sweats and the weakness.  I am awaiting results I will get on Monday.  I had five episodes yesterday and two during the night that wake me up.  They are getting worse, whatever they are.  I breathe through it all.  I keep track but I do not bother anyone else about them.

 I was concerned yesterday as I was weak and felt “off”.  I did tell ShirRae that I had an off day.  Today, I have had two so far.  I try not to worry.  Courage, yes, Courage.   I will let you know how it goes.

©Carol Desjarlais 10/07/25

 

“Oh, I Remember It Well”. Or Do I? Eroded Memories

 

 

Just because I think I can remember things well, it does not mean it was totally true.  Think of it.  You see, MY perspective and other’s perspectives will differ.  Maybe not in huge degrees, but, maybe slight deviations to an incident.  For one, I am aging and memory changes.  Two, other people’s recall will differ according to their perspective of an event.  Three, we change our attitude towards things and this may color the memory.  We have to NOT rely on our memory of something.  Our attitude towards certain events may change and thus that memory can change to fit that change in us. 

 

Our brain tries to link a memory to the senses that are included:  A smell, a taste, a feeling, a sound, peripheral surroundings.  They say a dream, that is a message, and contains a truth for us, is one that is complete sensory.  Memories are influenced by forgetting, parts being dumped as unnecessary residual to that memory.  Those professionals that do hypnosis to retrieve memory can influence that memory.  I had an incredible experience with the professional that worked with me to train me to work with Multiple Personality clients I had.  I had some later in life flashes , or almost memories, of some trauma.  The flash backs came stronger and stronger.  I knew what the trauma was, but I had not had full body memory of it.  She put me under light hypnosis to retrieve the rest of the information.  All I knew was that some lace curtains in a rental we rented had stoked the flash backs.  She was able to help me by helping me see that baby and gathering her up to comfort her.  That baby had no words to express the trauma.  I was able to gather her up and rock her.  When she brought me out of the hypnosis, she had urged me to remember the incident and be able to ut words to it.  It was the most comforting, awesome, experience.  Knowing what had actually happened...including the WHO, gave me answers I had been questioning about why I reacted to certain things that had not made sense before.  It was as if a mountain had been taken off my shoulders/soul.  But I have heard of false memories being implanted.  I know my memory of this incident was real because all the sense returned and there was visual evidence for the reason of the flashbacks.  The curtains in a moonlit bedroom.  It led me to deo deeper and deeper self-analysis and healing and change in me.  Some memories are incomplete.  Some are not as vivid as time passes.

But I can also tell you, that I saw an airplane crash and there was blood on the highway.  I can tell you that, many times, I had to hide from an enemy, and ones I knew, and loved, and trusted, always brought them to where I was.  Complete memories with sound, smell, feeling, whole body memories.  Neither were true.  The first came from a terrible reaction to some medication.  The enemy experiences came as whole-sensory nightmares. ( I might add, that the enemy nightmare memories did come to the forefront many times in my life as I was betrayed by those I loved and trusted.  A soul-lesson brought through dreams.)

 

Our memory of things are not exact and thinking they are sways you from your truths.  We do not want to disappoint people, we do not want to be negative, we start coloring relating an incident for these reasons, as well.  When we talk with others who were involved in an incident, they may color part of your memory afterward.  They may even have us question your memory.  While it is good to investigate, internally, a memory, and start to question all your memories, remember your truth. After listening to others about an incident, their versions may dilute yours.    In a group, talking about an incident can cause shared forgetting so that you all change each others memory.   

 

Even the act of personal remembering, we seem, to me, to open that memory up to editing because we are putting our Present moment and understanding into that memory.  It is said that, if we deny a memory, it begins to fade more and more.  We may still have that memory tucked in our place of remembering, but it is fragile.  And we may stop trusting our memories. 

 

Stay true to your own truths.  Make sure you have not been influenced so that your truth becomes watered down or have false elements to it.  If they are true to you, then back up your truths.  As we age, our memories seem to resurface more often.  I believe there are some memories NOT to share.  Some memories are so very precious that we do not want them tainted.   

 

©Carol Desjarlais 02.01.25

 

Life Is Transitory: What Have We Collected On This Part of the Journey?

 

 

See, I think Life is a Transitory Journey.  I think we are “on our way” to what is next.  The only baggage we came with, here to this life, is what we are meant to build on, to take with us to the next part of our soul’s journey.  We all have an expiration date.  We cannot escape that.  Our body is only a shell to contain those things beyond worldly goods.  We are collectors of spiritual aspects of our physical, intellectual, emotional and spiritual during this part of our soul’s journey.  What have I collected?

My body carries scars of this part of the journey.  Decisions I made, or were made for me, shows up as inscribed parts of my journey that took courage to recover from.  I have what I call “my crown and anchor” carved on my body and those scars mean something very worldly but the impact of those scars I carry in my mind, heart and soul.  Each scar changed me, took something huge to recover from.  But, any physical baggage we will carry with us, in that energy that leaves this shell, is what is the crux of why we here at all, as physical beings; why we went through physical things in this life; why we should concentrate on what we have done with this physical body to help make this journey worthwhile.  I have done good in many many ways.  Of course, I have let the world of my body control my worldly self. I surrender to my inefficiencies and have made life harder for others with my bodily decisions.  But I have used my hands, my feet, comfort, caress, coax and try to control self, or not.  I have many physical frailties.  I try hard to change my weaknesses and every night I ask for forgiveness for those frailties and ask for courage to change, every morning.  I do not deny that I spend a great much time trying to make up for my many frailties.    

My mind has collected many good thoughts and wisdom.  I have tried t extinguish negative thoughts (believe me, I have many things to extinguish).  I do a great deal of self-talk trying to make sure I do not mire down in negative thinking.  I refuse to lie in bed, in the dark, when my mind would love to dwell on negativity.  I get up and do something to change the pull into negative thinking.  I listen to podcasts that inspire.  I seek writings that inspire.  I spend time thinking on positive things.  Even this very blog is coming from a place that I am thinking about. 

My heart has collected such precious memories of emotional strengths...and, yes, sadnesses, too.  Insecurities that evolve from abandonment and a sense of postnatal rejection.   I can see that every poor decision of mine came from a place of fear.  I worked all last year, with the word FEAR.  It took courage to make decisions that could make someone not like me, not love me, reject me, abandon me.  I gathered up my timid courage and said what needed to be said, did what needed to be done, and with each time I dared to say or do my truth, I felt empowerment…tiny little bits of self-esteem grew as I tried to do what is right for I knew I would have to live with the consequences, abandonment or not.  What is in my heart, I will carry forth to the next part of my journey down here and over there, somewhere.

My spirit has great moments of spiritual knowledge.  From somewhere I cannot define other than saying it was soul, I knew things I was never taught.  I knew to do things and did them without thought or intention.  It could be called inspiration.  It could be called lots of words, but it came from somewhere within, not without, within.  I have seen things you cannot imagine, never mind that I could not. 

Christianity says that Creator created us in his image.  Are we meant to stand in for his presence?  That is huge.  Have I stood as a satisfactory replacement for Creator down here on earth?  See, we might have been focusing on worldly things rather than on the things we should be carrying with us into the next part of the journey.  That’s deep.  That is also a huge responsibility.    What have really done, of any good, in this world?  What am I carrying forward?  Of what “substance” am I?  I do believe there is a little bit of God/Goddesses in us.  Am I remembering to collect things that come of that?  I have work to do, for sure.  I have better stuff to collect on this part of my journey. 

©Carol Desjarlais 1.24.25