Listening to ‘Morning has broken’ my eyes began to leak and I asked myself:

“When does the grief finally end?

When will I finally be done and ok with letting go?” 

And to my utter astonishment, with the most surreal sweetness, 
grief answered:

“My dear, I shall live as long as you love, for within me lies the doorway to your most awakened compassionate heart… “

People will tell you that they wouldn’t change a thing in their life, that all of those ‘hard messy moments’ led them here… and this moment is divine…. 

And while I agree, I would also add that I’d change many things…. I’d set unwaveringly clear boundaries with my body and being and speak up and defend them with my life…. and I’d wrap all of my body and being and its perceived imperfections in a warm loving embrace, reassuring myself I was already enough, and that the ways others had violated me meant everything about them, and nothing about me.

I’d be less rigid and afraid. I’d say yes to so many more chances, i’d play and have oceans more fun. I’d caress my fear and seriousness into joyfull surrender…. Saying yes to so much more.. including that glass of red wine… 

Id shelve my righteousness and choose connection. I’d forgive myself so quickly shame would never find a resting place in my life and I’d whisper the words I needed to hear into my own precious ears… 

If I had the chance to choose over, I’d never be so afraid of love and life that I would run from the goodness and the relationships that fulfilled me. I’d give myself permission to say yes to my dreams decades before I finally did … 

But… My past is a salve that heals, if I let it… 

And while at times my heart breaks daily, I remind myself it was also made to, and those broken bits are the places all the love flows in and out.

I’m a rich, messy, beautiful contradiction and you have permission to be one too. 

Gentle days to you,

All love, KMF 

 @ Hobart, Tasmania

2 LONG AWAITED Brand New Invitation to Trust Oracle Decks are currently going to print and will be available in 3 months time – date to be released soon. To be the first to get your hands on my Daily Guidance Oracle or Self Love and Self Care Oracle pre-order here www.Katemfoster.com/shop

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This past week i have been reflecting on the kindness of others. I have been inundated with snail mail, cooked meals, warm conversations, friendly smiles and my husband even returned home with some wildflowers. My life is immeasurably blessed. And these blessings got me reflecting on the moments that have impacted or changed my life the most. And every single one of these moments have been where others chose to bring kindness, to show up and share generously their time, words or service.

Blessing others has a funny way of rubbing off on all involved.

Its not every week I get inundated with external worldly blessings like i mentioned above. Life has many seasons. Regardless of how it looks, i rest in the beauty of my life, i love it entirely and i intend to share this joy with the whole world if they want it!

In the everyday rhythm of living i focus on what my mama taught me when i was little. If you want kindness, you have to bring it. (This applies to most things: Happiness, love, peace etc). We need to embody what we yearn for most. We need to be the person we wish was there for us. We need to share the kindness we may love to receive, offer the support we know buoys and nourishes our life.

Because in some strange way it doesn’t matter which way kindness is flowing, the simple fact is that when someone brings it, the likely hood is that ‘kindness’ will find a way to infect almost everyone nearby. Even if i witness random strangers being blessed by others, i feel warm and fuzzy and grateful.

Have a beautiful week brave hearts. Keep sharing what you yearn for most. Planetary happiness really does depend on each of us. Now more than ever its important to remember we are the ones we have been waiting for!! Get gifting your gifts! The time is now.

With love and kindness from my heart, xo.

The post Kindness and the art of being blessed. appeared first on Kate M Foster.

Read on and gain insight into our hearts and the daily choices we face to show up real for the benefit of others, especially when we are afraid.

Kate’s words:
Our family is a blended one. When Rob and I got together I had already birthed my precious firstborn, it was the three of us right from the start. It must have been hard for him? To be honest I don’t really understand the kind of love and courage step parents bring. I’ve never been in that position, I can only imagine it’s richer and more challenging than I’ll ever truly fathom or comprehend.

In my life I am blessed with the honour of watching two phenomenal humans step parent their way to divinity. I look on with awe, deep gratitude and often bewilderment with how they manage to navigate the complexities of our lives with such grace, kindness and willing hearts. Pearl’s biological dad is the same. His kindness, patience and compassion are a gift to all that know him.

Is it easy? Of course not. Do we all get scared? I’m guessing absolutely, I know I do. Are we stretched beyond any known comfort zone? Entirely. And alongside all this richness we all show up real, communicate to the best of our ability and do our unending inner work, the kind required to navigate any relationship, regardless of its makeup.

Rob is my husband, Pearl’s stepdad and father to Freya my precious second born. When we got together he made a very clear intention of doing all he could to support Pearls relationship with her dad. He often shares that while he can never offer her what Danny can, his willingness to love and support her is unending. He has done everything in his ability to care, support, provide and love her, as does her dad. Pearl often tells people “I have two dads, one’s a Christian, one’s a Buddhist, and I’m not either”. It’s a grand stunning conversation starter with grown ups (and highly entertaining to witness as an inconspicuous bystander).

The truth is I was petrified when Danny and I separated. I didn’t know how I would ever be able to hand my child over to another woman. I spent a lot of time praying and leaning into my heart about who he may choose to re-partner with. In my scared moments I would remind myself of his truest heart, his kindness and that there was some divine order in this great colossal mess. Other times I would just cry and feel broken, afraid, responsible for ruining my daughters life. I had a lot to let go of. I prayed hard for a kind heartful woman. I prayed hard for wisdom to know the way.

The day I met Clare I new my prayers had been answered. My first thoughts about her were “I could be friends with this woman”, I really liked her. Apart from her great taste in fashion (she was wearing the same green dress I had) she was kind and clear and open. She showed up. She made the effort to meet me and actually share her vulnerability. I decided right then this blended family thing could work.

I thought about how much courage she must have to love a man who already had a child and I decided that it was time to trust. I was way out of my depth. Trust was my only option.

I’m not sure how she navigated the richness of it all to show up real, yet she did, time and time again. I think the day I really realised she was my child’s other mother was the day she called me to see if it was ok to take Pearl to church. For the first time I truly understood the beauty of her heart. And the gift I had received in mothering alongside her. I was no longer alone, I had a strong, faithful woman showing up with such deep respect that I no longer had to fear for my child. It broke my heart open again to realise I don’t carry the responsibility alone. We share the role. The little woman, the daughter we share is growing more beautiful and diverse and understanding because of us. She has two faith filled passionate powerful women guiding her to listen, reflect and grow her own way. She has shade trees to rest under. She is ok. More than ok. She is thriving. I imagine one day we will all stand together as women, equals, silently resting into the rich beautiful tapestry that is life.

Clare and I have spoken about writing a book together. A book sharing our inner hearts and challenges and how we navigate this rich arena of life. I kind of imagine it like a map for fellow travellers. And even though we are all travelling in slightly different directions I’m pretty sure we are all carrying luggage of some kind. Clare came up with the idea of calling it Blended Bliss. I think it’s a great title and an opportunity for us to expand and share our definition of Bliss. Not just surviving blended families, actually thriving and growing in our capacity to forgive, love and serve.

You see sometimes we whittle bliss down to some neatly packaged euphoric state of sublime divinity. And we get the idea that life is supposed to look this way, neat and shiny, unendingly. Or scarier still we get the idea that blended families are meant to be hell, hard and full of suffering. The truth is our experience is so much more than either of these. You see Blended Bliss is the whole shebang. It’s not either/or, its everything and more. And with permission to get real and honest and connected to big picture long term intentions I believe any family, blended or not can navigate their way to wholesome connection and purpose.

Stay tuned. We are dreaming on how to contribute our experiences. Remember you are not alone and while your family will look different to ours, when we show up with open vulnerable hearts, we bring peace where there could be war. We change the world.

Clare’s Words:
In the beginning little did I know…… that one of the biggest lessons in life was just about to hit me.
I used to pray for my future husband, praying for the typical things, like a man of God, intelligent, funny and creative. I’m thankful I got all of those things. Dan would often say that God doesn’t always give you what you want, but what you need.

When I first met Dan, he told me pretty early on that he had a daughter from another relationship, I was surprised but went with it, little did I know what that really meant. In the haze of starting a new relationship, I almost took the information in like other stats, like how many brothers and sisters he had.

Dan had such passion for his daughter and it was so beautiful to see how much he loved her.

The first time I met Pearl…..

The week before, Dan had been saying to come along to a family dinner. I would get to meet his whole family and daughter for the first time, we had been dating for about 3 months. All week he had been saying to come along and when he cancelled the next day, I could tell he was nervous. I was nervous too.

I was brought up in the Methodist church, always volunteering and helping out in kids clubs. Children would often flock to me and therefore I felt pretty confident that Dan’s daughter and I would get along.

When this beautiful little soul was introduced to me, she looked at me with concern and weariness, hugging Dan’s leg. I thought, it’s daunting for a child to meet new people, it will change, or so I thought. This continued for the next year, my heart was broken.

This is where your vulnerability kicks in. On your journey as a step mother you present your love, you hope for acceptance, but you are not guaranteed an outcome. Rejection comes often.

It’s a matter of always offering your love, open hearted and open handed. There is a fearful part of me that wants self preservation, wants to guard my heart but the other part of me knows I just need to keep giving my love to Pearl.

Meeting Katie and Rob I was so nervous, I thought about how hard it must be for Katie, leaving your child into the care of others, especially with me and what I represented as ‘the other mother’ but Katie spoke with such gentleness and this allowed our vulnerabilities and insecurities to breathe. I felt truly comfortable. I am sure this wasn’t easy for Katie of which I am truly grateful.

Being a step mother is the hardest thing I have ever done. It leaves me raw and exposed in ways I have never felt before. And in this, there is also true beauty and a refiners fire. A beautiful life doesn’t come without cost.

In closing, together we offer these words:

When women support women and families support families, miracles happen. Stay brave people, together we’ve got this.

With love and kindness

Clare and Kate xo

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Look closely at this picture. It explains love. I was sad when I found my broken cup. Tea is a ritual in our home. I have treasured every tea I’ve had in it. I wasn’t ready to let it go. Almost defiantly I left the broken remnants on the bench to contemplate the next step…

I busied myself with cleaning and errands. Miss four interrupted asking for tape. I contemplated saying no as I was busy and it felt inconvenient yet I took a deep breath and rummaged through my Tetris caravan cupboards to find it. 10 or 15 minutes later I enquired what she was doing with the scissors and tape and with big joyful eyes she smiled and presented me with my cup. It’s all fixed mama. Bless her heart, it was completely sticky taped together. Even the gaping hole in the bottom had tape clumsily hanging over it.

The whole world opened to me in that moment and I remembered the truth of life.

Our innocents hearts are the same.

Eternally loving, infinitely giving, courageously vulnerable, showing up to perform the impossible.

May we all be blessed with innocent hearts.

Love and kindness ❤️KMF

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For countless years I searched for love, wanted to be loved, wanted to be cherished and all at the same time didn’t understand what vulnerability was required to actually become saturated with that juicy goodness.

The world in addition to the countless Disney movies I consumed taught me love was meant to feel good, if it didn’t feel good it wasn’t love. And love most definitely was an outside job. For love to be real it must come from someone or something outside my own shadow filled self. It must be profound, convenient and clearly labelled, these were the kinds of things that I believed made love real.

(For the record let me be clear here when i speak about love not always feeling good, I am in no way referring to any kind of violence. Violence, emotional, physical or any other kind is NEVER ok and absolutely NOT any part of love. It must not be tolerated, accepted or hidden. Ever. Ever.)

When I speak of the parts of love that don’t feel good what I am referring to is the willingness inside myself to move towards those aspects of myself I found and sometimes still find undesirable. You see it would have been highly convenient if the world or someone else could love those undesirable bits of me so i could feel good, accepted, valued, beautiful, enough. I wanted my worthiness to come from an external source.  An external person. An external thing. (Addiction lives here). And although sometimes love can be reflected back to us by something outside of ourselves, it is only ever a signpost back to the truth of what is already in existence inside of us. Love is an inside job, any other version rarely lasts long.

Some of my demands were for someone to love and cherish me the way I deserved. And the shit storm started there. Because when someone does love and support you so entirely and you still feel unworthy, you have the opportunity to turn and face the truth, to run or to suffer. There is no where else to hide. If every external demand you have made has been met and you are still not happy, its time to face the music. The internal music. The song that never ends.

That’s what i call the hot seat. This hot seat is the invitation you have been waiting for your whole life. It’s your deepest yearning to get real and honest and messy so you can make friends with your own internal chaos. But more about that in my upcoming book.

What I can share with you now is this.

By turning towards all that petrified me about myself, by finding the courage to sit and make friends with my yucky icky undesirable shame filled bits, this divine man appeared in my life. And when he appeared I turned towards myself, and him.

He showed up and I let him in. In doing so I stood far beyond any confines of comfort I had ever known in my life. It hasn’t changed.

I vulnerably love with all my being and at the same time i know it is 100 percent guaranteed one of us will leave the other. That happens to everyone we know and love. We leave each other. We all eventually have to farewell this life. Our time is finite.

So when he pulls over in the car and wanders off into a paddock I wait. I sit, I weave and reflect. And when he appears back at the side of the car with these in his hands love leaks out my eyes. I see him. I love. I let that love in. It breaks me. And in my sacred brokenness my light floods out and touches the world.

My heart is willing to make friends with my sharp corners and from there I can be that big warm hug the world is desperate for.

I show up,

In love and service,

K xoxo

The post Letting Love In… appeared first on Kate M Foster.

Her way was strong and clear and kind. She spoke her mind, she helped whoever was in front of her and she had an unshakable faith in Christ. Her Christianity wasn’t just the clean idealistic kind. Her faith was deeply rooted in showing up, getting her hands dirty, feeding mouths and healing wounds. She had a resilience and stamina rare in today’s world. Despite all she endured her kindness and loving heart remained the forefront of her life’s work, her soft blue ocean eyes never hardened, they looked at you with a love so deep its presence is forever etched in my being.

Her long life meant she farewelled so many of her loved ones and her ever present faith was the way she navigated this rich messy world.

When I visited her a few months back we both knew it would be the last time we would see each other. My mum, the girls and I baked her a cake as we always did when we were home, we had a tea party in her honour, she shared stories of her youth and we all shared words about the things we loved about her. I made times to visit her without the girls so we could talk about her faith and Jesus and what she felt about dying. She shared what she believed would happen. I asked her if she had regrets or if there was anything she felt ashamed about and we cried together as she shared she felt responsible for her mothers passing. She believed that if she had gone in to her mother earlier that morning long ago, she would not have fallen and broken her hip.

Even in that last visit she was teaching me with her enormous heart. Each of us carries hidden guilt and shame. I can only pray that at the end of my life I have as few regrets as she did.

It’s hard for me to fathom the way this life just comes to an end. From when I was young I always loved my time with Aunty Jean. Horses and animals and gardening and feeding the birds. We were equally as comfortable in silence or sharing and she gave me hope for the grown up I could one day become. She helped me set my bar of goodness and service and truth high, really high.

And she showed up like clockwork. Diligent, willing, able.

My last visit with her was so bittersweet, yet somehow her trust in this whole ‘life’ thing pulled me into her peace. She was surrendered. She did it her way. When the time came for me to leave her house that last day, as always she rose to walk me to the door. I shared I’d rather her rest as I would hate to be responsible for her falling over. She gave me a lecture about how I would not be responsible for her breaking a hip, that these things just happen and then we both laughed and cried some more and I like to think she made a bit more peace about her own mothers fall.

Sitting here today, I’m thinking of her sons, and their families, and the countless others that benefited from her loving kindness. All those that were blessed by her ocean eyes and strong healing hands. It’s hard to write through my tears. I think of my dad and the way his own mother was never able to offer him love or kindness and how Aunty Jean stepped into that role and loved him with the purity of her whole heart. Her love touched him with the motherly love he had not known. Aunty jeans love taught me the truth of mothers. A mothers infinite love is not bound to her own offspring, for love is not bound at all.

My dads love and loyalty to aunty Jean is immeasurable. I have no doubt her love will live on in him and countless others for the rest of their lives.

This is the truth of love. It shows up with open arms even, it’s not afraid of broken. It blesses with its grace.

It’s true that this life is brutal and hard and that at some point we all have to farewell 100% of the people we love. It is also true this life is rich and indescribably beautiful because of the kindness and love and generosity of humans like Aunty Jean.

I have no doubt when she passed she met her beloved Jesus in that bright light she spoke of that day. I pray that the love she left behind continues to love and heal and guide for infinite lifetimes to come.

Bless you Aunty Jean and thank you dear lady, the pleasure of your company was all mine Xxoo

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It was a chapter where my girlfriends were everything. They were my support, my inspiration, my confidantes and my encouragement. They challenged me to grow beyond my awareness and abilities. They laughed with me. Cried with me. They lived the questions of life alongside my growing fragile heart. We traded stories and tears and food and dreams. We imagined what was to come and invested heart-fulls of possibility into how we thought the future would unfold for each of us. Those days were precious and at the time I thought they would go on for ever.

The thing is, they didn’t.

Fast forward a decade or so and life is very different. Life has been richer and more colourful than I ever imagined possible. This sacred sisterhood helped me navigate my teens, twenties, thirties, marriages, divorce, separation, children, loss and losing loved ones to suicide. We have each had to say goodbye to precious people way too soon. Our hearts have broken and mended more times than I can count. We have fallen and risen and fallen again.

For the most part those of us still living check in as often as we can. We balance our own families and extended families and partners families and friends and children and careers and volunteer jobs and homes and gardens and communities all while doing our best to stay connected to our own hearts and the dreams we planted in them long ago.

Truthfully, life continues to get better. And by better I mean more fulfilling and beautiful. At the same time my responsibilities have increased many times over. I have so many people to consider with every decision I make its taken me years to remember I actually have permission to consider me too.

This dance, this rich, fulfilling everything I ever dreamt of responsibility dance fills every moment of my day. I am fulfilled. I am stretched. I am thankful and content.

I still have the same number of moments in each day, yet the smorgasbord of options to share those moments with has expanded exponentially.

So, sitting here, glancing you three across the room melted my heart. The beauty of the chapter you are living made my eyes leak. And the beauty of this chapter I am living does the same.

Sometimes I watch my mum and her girlfriends. They have entered a chapter I am yet to arrive in and know very little about. I notice how they are always laughing and I wonder if I’ve become a bit too serious. I remember how in an earlier chapter of my life, exploring with my girlfriends, I was so quick to laugh. If I’m truthful that chapter of deep exploration also contained a bathtub of tears too. And while this current chapter of life is ever so constant, and we don’t see each other as much as we used too, we each do our best to carve out sacred time to share together. And dreaming forward as our little ones grow I’ve got to wondering if a version of that spacious life will come again? I’d love another chapter with my precious girlfriends where we have freedom to plan road trips and festivals and adventures. One where we can reminisce about the previous chapter of our life that was full of little children, unending juggling and responsibilities, yet somehow deeply sacred while it swallowed every waking moment.

So whatever chapter you find yourself in, may you be blessed. May you have the support and encouragement and the belief of other women. And even if you stand alone may you remember there are countless women behind you, me included. We are trusting you. Believing for you. Encouraging you and counting on you to show up brave and real.

Be blessed my dears,
All love ❤️
Bless you three beauties, please write to me if you ever read this xoxo

And Thank you, AGAIN, with all my heart.

(The Vegie Bar, Brunswick Street, Fitzroy Victoria).

The post A window through time… appeared first on Kate M Foster.

It was hard because alongside their accusations I had my own ‘what is the meaning of life thing’ going on. To be honest I can’t remember a time I wasn’t asking myself who I was? Questioning what this whole shebang of a life is about. What is the meaning of it all? And what is my place in it? And how do I serve the world without rocking the boat and being judged?

Mostly the common line of accusations and questions from the kids perplexed me because:
a) I knew part of me was whatever God was, so of course I was special.
b) They too were made of this same sacred source, them and I were entirely the same and I had no sense of feeling ‘more than’ or ‘ better than’ any of them.
And
c) When I would speak up about this sacred equality the rebuke of ‘listen to how you sound’ or ‘sure, you just walk like you’re better than the rest of us’ and similar would fly back at me.

Regardless of my efforts I could never convey the sense of sacred equality I felt with the whole world, at least not in a way they could understand.

So I started writing. I wrote to that divine source I didn’t entirely understand. And I listened for answers.

And I set about the business of playing it small. Not speaking up. If the mere presence of my voice, something I had no control over the sound of, was making people feel inferior then I better shut up. Keep quiet. Not stand out.

And this worked for a while.

Hiding does.

Yet hiding is never a permanent fix. It only works until life’s patience runs out.
Some of life’s plans for me were relentless spiritual seeking and study, reflection and even deeper questioning. I started 10 day silent retreats when I was 20. And for the first time I really understood that silence and being alone was my medicine. Gee maybe it’s even the worlds medicine.

Over the years Ive remembered many things about the truth of life and of course I’ve made peace with living in my own skin.

My voice, I’m so thankful for it. It’s one of the ways I share with the world. My walk, it’s taken me all over this precious earth, and in each place I’ve visited, I’ve shared kindness and love while serving and benefiting others.

Sometimes the remnants of these childhood experiences still guide me to new insights.
As I draw closer to 40 and step into a deeper role of teaching and serving the world I’ve been reflecting on what’s changing within my awareness.

When I look at the world I still see fragments of the divine. Each person a manifestation of truth. However I’m understanding more and more how we are all in different stages of remembering. So while we may all be equal, we all don’t know this to be true.

And this is why I teach. This is why I create sacred space and offer workshops and retreats. Why I share my heart daily. Why I show up vulnerable and real and write and speak.

Because my life purpose is to embody truth and share that with everyone, reflecting wakefulness through each phase and season of life.

Yes it takes courage for to be seen. To be heard. Yet I believe all beings are destined for liberation, me included and so my commitment is to be in service of all.

My invitation to the world is this. Draw near. You have full permission to remember. Come, I offer you all that I am. Share with me. Travel alongside me. Take what you wish from my offerings and leave the rest. All you need do is take the next natural step. And in return for your courage I dedicate and offer my entire existence to serving all beings, for this life and all future lifetimes if they come about. I am unwavering in my dedication.

This I know to be truth.

So whenever you are ready, I’m here.

See you on the road my friend ❤️

The post This I know to be Truth. appeared first on Kate M Foster.

It’s true, my gifts are not better than anyone else’s, and measuring myself against any other human is never going to end well. There are millions if not billions of people with greater insight, grace, compassion, wisdom, workshops, books, the list goes on.
Maybe I am foolish for baring my heart each day, unleashing my fragile revelations into the ethers to be carved up by the masses. God knows I am judged, hell I even judge myself.

The truth is this, I do have a choice. I can silence myself, spiral inwards and downwards and turn against myself….   Or I can choose to show up vulnerable, to keep getting my brave on, to continue nakedly and foolishly offering what I have each moment as the most precious gift I can share. I call it ‘showing up anyway’. Its me, raw and real and often inadequately messy yet so holy divinely devoted to serve with every cell of my being.

So don’t come to me seeking perfection. Don’t expect infallible wisdom. Rather come with all of your vulnerabilities, your questions, your willingness, your fragile messy hearts and together we can explore and remember that which we never truly forgot in the first place.

No one has life sorted all the time. We are not meant to. We are the seasons and our only job is to not turn from whatever weather we find ourselves in.

Tonight I face the winds of change. I know not what they bring. I’m showing up anyway. Fragile, uncertain, scared, doubtful, real, willing, dedicated and brave. You see a queen wears her crown regardless of weather and I’ve got that damn thing on, shiny, wobbly, visible.

I look forward to seeing you out there fellow traveller, I need you, your brave heart inspires me, it encourages me onwards. Together we’ve got this ❤️ xox

June Sunshine Coast Workshop details coming soon…

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I just awoke from a dream. It was a dream of my first husband, sobbing, desperate, needing to cut me out. And the pain he was feeling was that near death, eat you alive pain I too felt when I left, and still know at times like this, even 10 years on. You see I never stopped loving him. He was a good man. The best you could ask for. And me leaving meant nothing about him, yet of course he must have believed it did. If you love another human as wholeheartedly and purely as he did, and then she left, of course you are going to draw conclusions and surmise it’s about you. Well the whole truth is, it wasn’t about him. To this day I don’t really understand why I left. I could say it’s so I could have Pearl and Freya and give to the world the way I do, but that’s me telling stories. The best understanding I can grasp is that it was an act of fierce grace. One of those unexplainable inner urgings that are so strong you don’t really get a choice. They burn you up from the inside, and following their whims is your only option. It was like I was on auto pilot. And I knew I was destroying my life, yet I had to follow through. The only blessing at the time was I was so ignorant I felt like I was doing him a favour. I believed that me leaving was his best chance at a peaceful life. A life where he could live out his contented hearts wishes, simply, everyday. Maybe that same wildness that drives people to suicide also drove me to leave, I don’t know to this day. It never made sense. It was the only way I knew how to give him the freedom he deserved. And it broke me open so deeply that the ravines of those wounds still surface today.

People don’t talk about these kinds of things. Or at least the people I know don’t. I kind of got passed this neat little basket of what love is and isn’t from society – culture – the world. It was the kind of package that says you love one person, and should you ever break up, they collect all their belongings and move completely out of your heart. And then you both move on and find new people to take up lodgings. And this didn’t happen. 10 years on, I’ve been separated from him a little longer than we were together, and when I think of his heart and my love for him my eyes leak just the same as they did all those years ago. This man was a good man, a man of integrity and honesty and kindness. Even to this very moment his wisdom continues to mould and shape my life, his love keeps on giving, whether he knows it or not. I learnt to serve my children by reflecting on the unending patience and love he offered me. He is the human who taught me not everyone is ready for the whole truth and “sometimes you have to feed people sandwiches, not a whole smorgasbord”. This man was different to all the others I had ever met, and the very moment I saw him I remember thinking “one day I want to marry a man like that”. The thing is, I was scared of myself. Gee I was scared of the world, and I’d not learnt to sit in my fear the way he had. I couldn’t even see that he had those gifts. I’d come from a long line of women whose deepest safety resource was to run or in the least shut down, so unconsciously, that’s what I did. It wasn’t a choice, it was a thundering force within my basic makeup that left me with no other option. In no way do I hold those women responsible for my choices, no doubt that same knowledge was passed to them from their great grandmothers and they too felt choiceless. It was instinctual. That force propelled me into some of the darkest chapters of my life by wrapping itself in cheap gift wrap with the words adventure sprawled all over. And adventure hides brokenness, at least for a while. But God when that son of a gun brokenness comes raining down on you, you best be prepared to lay down and take the dues owed to you. And for an unknown amount of future chapters you shall know the richness of its ways. I spent almost 3 years laying on various kitchen floors, in numerous parts of the world, sobbing, begging the earth to swallow me, all the while questioning my sanity. I was self consumed with shame and guilt and remorse and grief. Deep deep grief. A grief that shaved my bones continually because for some unknown reason I’d given up everything I’d ever dreamed of. All because of something inside me pushing me to action. A restlessness that never let me rest, even when I was happy. If anyone read this they could say it was depression or mental illness, maybe it was both? Although the ache was so deep it felt like it came from the belly of the earth so maybe it was something more than that? Who knows. What is known is that the ache propelled me to choices that impacted the lives of many people I love deeply, to this day. And the effects of my choices are my responsibility to carry, until I take my last breath. And for what it’s worth, I plan to hold each of those people with unending honour until that moment comes…

So getting back to love, and for simplicities sake, let’s stick with romantic love for now. You know the girlfriend and boyfriend type. The best way I can explain what it is like for me is this. My heart is kind of like a big house, filled with rooms. And as I love, more rooms get added. They all have different sizes and contents and decorations. Some are tiny, like the ‘Marty Wright’ room, the boy I loved when I was four because he snuck me chewing gum, he was my hero. There are even rooms for the people I love that I didn’t actually ever get to meet. I for sure had a ‘Ben Harper’ room, a’Johnny Depp’ room (how many houses has he lived in?) ‘some guy off tv’ who had blonde hair and blue eyes room (his poster was on my bedroom wall for years whose name escapes me now), ‘that guy’ I had a crush on in highschool who at the time I would have given my left kidney to speak to that I’m now glad I never dated… The list really does go on…. But the thing is, they all still live in my heart. They have each moulded and shaped me and grown me into who I am today. I know for some it’s a shuddering thought, an ‘oh my god I’m not even willing to entertain that idea for half a breath longer that I might have (…insert…) lodging in my heart’ , but stay with me here. The thing is, you don’t have to decide what you think right now, just be curious a while longer….

So as we love new people, rooms keep being added, maybe no one ever moves out, our hearts capacity to love simply has to grow bigger as we move more people in. And this is where our current society/cultural views confuse things. This modern disposable world likes to believe you can throw out old loves like you do your outdated iPhone. It’s done. Something better comes along, trade it in. And I’m not for a moment saying don’t trade something in for another version, I’m simply inviting you to consider maybe it’s possible that your heart keeps track of those past versions of love (old lovers) even when your mind does not, and that these past lovers have a much greater impact on our current life than we may dare to entertain. Let me give you an example. I was at a weekend workshop recently where we each had the opportunity to witness or take part in a wedding ceremony. It was not the average ceremony yet it felt more accurate than any I had seen. In this instance it was a bride and groom ( it would be equally as relevant with two brides or two grooms or any other make up) and they stood facing each other. Other people were then called to step into the circle and represent various people and line up behind the bride and groom. Firstly people were called to represent their parents/ stepparents, then representatives were called for their siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, great grandparents, great great grandparents, all finally all their past lovers….. And they all stood behind the bride and groom, so you had quite a lot of people facing each other. All of a sudden, a simple two person marriage ceremony got a lot more complex. And taking that person in marriage actually meant taking on a whole lot more than we may have acknowledged. Maybe we are a sum of all our ancestors who have come before us, all who have sacrificed for us and loved us and all those we have loved. And if you are serious about loving with your whole heart, inviting yourself to a curiosity about such things may be an interesting place to begin. I myself didn’t know such things at 21 when I married the first great love of my life. I was unconsciously ignorant to my past and bound by things I would not begin to see or understand for many years to come. The only thing I did know, and still do, is that I love that man, that he is everything good and whole and real in this world, and the room he has in my heart is as clean and shiny today as it was that first day I glanced him across the dance floor at debut practice. And I’m forever thankful he lives there, even when my tender heart leaks out my eyes and I miss him. You know my children know this man, not in real life as circumstances have prevented me from seeing him for many years, but they know him in the stories of love and joy and sadness that I share with them. That’s my gift to them, to know the truth of loving so fully it keeps breaking your idea of love open again and again. Maybe as they grow and love and build rooms for people in their hearts, they won’t have to carry the shame of still loving those people, even after they have left their lives. Just because it’s not yet common place in the world to be taught ‘of course you can still love them’, ‘No, it doesn’t take away from your current love’, I’m determined to have that be on offer as an understanding for my children. To my way of living love doesn’t exist to invoke shame or regret, but rather exists to grow our hearts unendingly until our last breath, and maybe even more after that. I want my girls to know the richness of love and for them to have the courage to explore the possibility that each experience of loving will live in them forever, in some way, whether or not they remember or acknowledge it.

From where I’m sitting the world is desperate for more love and regardless of our budget I’m certain we can all afford to splash that stuff around lavishly everywhere. It’s not going to hurt, or maybe it will, either way it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

And who knows, if we hold each other precious and sacred and acknowledge the whole sum of who we are, maybe we would realise we are not so different after all? Maybe our inner wars would cease and the world may look different?

Now as a disclaimer, my heart has not known simple. Not ever. It’s a richly woven tapestry of complexities that are apparent even from my earliest memories. So please feel no obligation to see the world as I do. God forbid that would ever happen. This is simply a raw uncensored sharing from my deepest heart. That’s what I do. So please be gentle with me, for all my courage I’m still a fragile human being. Kindness is important, sharing is scary, yet my vulnerability is the light that guides my way.

(These words are shared with the deepest gratitude and acknowledgement to my incredible husband Rob who supports me to be raw and real and unleash these uncensored sharings on the world. It is my infinite blessing to have married a man who holds precious the many roads my heart travelled to find my way to his. These well trodden roads are the reason that we share the love we do today. And it’s true that he too has many past lovers living in his heart, all of whom offered him gifts and beauty and polishing. I’m off to meet another of them later in the month. Their past loving kindness form part of the divine I treasure in him today. Bless you and thank you Roberto xoxo)

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