I'll start by saying I am NOT a horror fan. Never have been, never will be. And I HATED watching The Lobster. But while watching it, I felt the same way I did in watching Black Mirror: hated having to see it, but "glad" I watched it. Like Black Mirror, The Lobster is an uncomfortably luminous social commentary and while I may squirm in the pain of what terrifying potential we humans have to establish evil as the general norm, these absurdist dark comedies give resounding warning shots. The Lobster in particular is f-ing brilliant. We all possess the capacity to become monsters. Liberals and conservative alike. These dystopian words are not that far out of the realm of possibility.

Fear is a crazy thing. As I've been encountering my own spiritual re-evaluation over the past 18 months, I've found myself exploring which belief systems do and do not work for me, and it has been absolutely terrifying. I've said this many times over the past 18 months... I COMPLETELY understand why people don't change. To step away from self-serving, fear-based thought-patterns and move towards new behaviours, when those thought-patterns were the only things that kept me safe as a child??? Are you KIDDING me?? The devil we don't know is 1000x scarier than the devil we know. I GET why people don't change. In the time since having 3 pretty intense shall-we-call-them-"spiritual"-experiences, most pre-2015 truths that were rock-solid have since dissolved, and things I wouldn't have even considered have become a very real part of my filter. Maybe I'll blog about that more one day... but suffice it to say, there's a lot I'm unclear about right now. 

BUT. One constant truth has emerged in my insatiable research these days: that we NEED each other to survive. it appears the the only way we can evolve - indeed, the only way we have survived this far -  is through trust, empathy, and compassion. It appears we cannot evolve as a species without these characteristics. We've got tiny little bodies, no claws, fangs, or fur, poor eyesight, and these huge heads. How else are we supposed to kill a bear if we don't have group strategy??

The aforementioned absurdist "comedies" serve to remind us that without accessing our evolved frontal cortex, the centre for "WE" thinking, we become fear-based, self-serving, and manipulative. Not just on the individual front... but as a WHOLE. Believe or don't believe in the law of attraction... I feel it's safe to say that we are inter-connected... our thoughts and actions can directly influence those around us. ESPECIALLY vulnerable groups like children.

Our society is flawed and distorted. Perhaps it always will be. With our material needs met, the First World's evolutionary impulses step into overdrive. Combined with not NEEDING our neighbours to help us harpoon dinner, and with the Industrial Revolution's move into large cities and nuclear families, our tribal empathy and support systems have all but disappeared. Great for technology. Terrible for our brains.

I am moving into learning more and more about mental health, of my own propensity towards anxiety and compulsive behaviours, and the remedy for that. Turns out I can't heal anxiety on my own. When I'm in the midst of an anxiety attack, the ONLY way out of my thoughts is calling somebody else who can talk me through it. If not a friend or fellow, it's a Crisis Line. My thoughts get distorted and if I don't ask for a trustworthy's person help, who knows what will happen. What works for me is thinking of my mental health as one that carries a spiritual disease: I do have preventative medicine available (therapy, meetings)... and when I'm stable, there's some leeway on my routine. But if I go long without this medicine of other people's healthy thinking to bolster my own, or the ability to be kind and compassionate to others, I can slip right back into the self-serving-ness so quickly I won't even know what happens. How "amusing" that the very thing that is our evolutionary protection (fear-based ego), can actually lead to our downfall.

With the help of my kind, caring network of strong people around me, I seem to be doing ok right now. I mean, I HATE the winter, so ask me again in 6 weeks, but cultivating compassionate tribe has been a crucial part of moving through my own self-destructive periods. And likewise, the times that I've found a way to remember to channel kindness and compassion towards others, I've felt the intensity of emotional/mental pain cool and maybe even be replaced by a different, more pleasant, feeling.

It's been said that pain and struggle exists because without it, we would not have compassion. I'd like to buy that, but the skeptic in me is still unsure. I've had some pretty intense pain and struggle in my time, and it is PEANUTS compared to what some other humans go through. So for me to use that as a blanket statement for why the world is as it is feels callous and negligent. This goes back to me not knowing a god-damed thing about the world. 

But here's what I do know: I have some very important mentors who have either lived longer than me on this earth, who have lived through at least what I'm going through if not worse, or both... and have lived to tell the tale. The people who pull me through are those who can say, "Me Too!". I don't even care about getting advice, when I'm in that place, usually... I just know that if somebody hasn't experienced what I've experienced, they simply won't help me get through the thing I'm getting through. But if they have, and I feel safe around them, I open up just a little bit. And maybe even heal. Or whatever.

So... do I have an end for this blog? A Happy Ending? Or an answer for our terrifying shared reality of the Inauguration of He Who Shall Not Be Named? Not really. Except that the sun came up today, and there's a lot I don't have control over, even from day to day (depending on my mental health state), but there will always be even a little something I have control over, and that's enough for today.

A lot of this blog was influenced by this article here, which is worth a read in our scary world events right now, and contains a link to a TED talk. It also is prompting a lot of my own personal research into Joseph Campbell, so if you have any articles around the work he's done, send 'em my way.

My aunt told me  not too long ago that her mother, my paternal grandmother, used to often say, "the joy is in the struggle." Well, if that's the case, then 2016 must have been a particularly joyful year.

BECAUSE STRUGGLE.

So hey there world, it's 12:06am on the wee morning of my 33rd birthday. So I lie here, pondering the trivial issues like "WHAT IS GOD REALLY" and "WILL I EVER UNDERSTAND REALITY"?

However, the biggest theme coursing through my head tonight is, "maybe just maybe 2016 was an OK year after all."

WHAT??

WHO SAID THAT??



LET ME BE CLEAR - 2016 was no 2015. I can say with complete certainty that 2015 was the best year of my life to date. A year that started out bleak, and became magnificent. Fireworks. Ecstasy. Family. Friendship.

And then, it abruptly ended. And the tail end of 2015 ended as bumpy as it had exactly 1 year before.

"Surely," I thought, "while this is difficult, it cannot last into 2016? 2015 was my Happy Ending year, where everything got better! Now that it's Happy, it Stays that Way! Hurray!"




Oh, how wrong I was.



If 2015 was a loving mistress who caressed me to sleep with popsicles and secondhand minks, 2016 was a vengeful ex who egged my house every Friday night and convinced the cops it was those damn kids. Where 2015 was a Ferrari, 2016 was my mom's old 1976 Mustang that had a hole in the parking brake. 2015 was rich organic cocoa beans; 2016, llama vomit.

2016 was supposed to be the goofy Joan Cusack character who had your back through thick and thin; but instead, 2016 turned into the 6-fingered horseman from The Princess Bride. Hard stuff happened. Hard feelings happened. My show had a tough birthing process, I got really sick, and my heart got broken. A few times. My finances remained tight. Solvent, but tight. Donald Trump happened.

I'd love to end it there. "2015, good. 2016, bad. Screw you. Downhill from here. Feel bad for me THE END". And I would! I tried, I did!

But...

I'm lying here, 22 mins into being 33 years old... and I just can't shake this feeling.

"Maybe 2016 knew what she was doing after all..."

because... ok. I had hard feelings. I was alone. I was broke. Yes.

But... I got through those feelings, and I did it on my own. I got through the alone-ness... and when the people started flowing back in, I had a self-assurance that didn't used to be there, because I HAD gotten through that stuff on my own. And I may have been broke... but I did get everything I needed. And I learned how to scale back if I had to. On. My own. And yes, ok, Donald Trump still happened but at least that happened to EVERYONE AT THE SAME TIME.

And in the meantime... I wrote a fucking fantastic show that was REALLY well-received, and made a difference. I got to do my very first solo Fringe tour. I got clear on my comedic voice, and my true north on the artistic compass. I had a spiritual experience that lifted another layer of the veil... maybe even permanently? My work ethic grew, and my confidence as a writer skyrocketed.
And I realized... I think I have a team.




I've never had a team before, guys. I've never really had the social skills to know how to create consistent community of like-minded individuals. I was an only child of a dysfunctional household and broken marriage, and was pretty heavily bullied at a formative age, so it's fair to say my makeshift social skills were long due for a major overhaul.

The framily of creation, relationships that began in 2015, deepened with 2016. I learned why friendships were necessary. And I have such, such, SUCH good people in my life right now. Like the kind of quality of people that 10-year-old Meg could only DREAM of having as friends, collaborators, confidantes, and butt-touchers.

agggghhhh.... I hate to say this, but I think... I think 2016 knew what she was doing... UGGGGH YOU FRUSTRATINGLY SAUCY MINX!!!

See, I gave 2016 a lot of shit this year, but she forced me to grow up. She became the parent that took away the sharp fabric scissors I so wanted to play with.While I spent much of the first and last parts of the year being angry at how shitty she was for making me feel abandoned, alone, and scared...  begrudgingly, I admit that those feelings were actually already there.... 2016 was just showing me that I'm strong enough to deal with them now, and perhaps even outgrow them.... and maybe... just maybe... those feelings and world-views weren't real... maybe... just maybe... an entire new way of interacting with the world exists.

AAARRRGGGH!!!! BUT I WAS SO SURE I WAS ANGRY AT YOU, 2016!!

So don't get me wrong. I'm still struggling with some of the big stuff right now. My horoscope says that 2017 is going to be another year of foundational shifts for me, that the big-ass struggle is only halfway done. And since horoscopes are always correct, the thought of having another year as intense as 2016 brings bite-sized chunks of vomit up my esophagus.

So I don't know what's next. But. I DO know. That one day it will all be gone, all of it. The joy. The pain. The tears. The sex. The ice cream. The best friends. The abandonment issues. ALL. OF. IT. One of he more intense parts of 2016 was an experience I had surrounding this, which I'm writing my new show about, and if 2016 hadn't been what it was, I definitely would not have had that experience and wouldn't be writing this show or this sweet run-on sentence about it.

2016, you weren't a fun year, but I think you were a necessary year. Don't tell anyone I said this, but I'm considering being grateful for you.  CONSIDERING . Can't say I'm sad to see you leave, but I'll never be 32 again. So, you're all I had this year. So... thanks for picking me.

And maybe... just maybe... there was joy in there.

MAYBE.


x
M

Hi everyone,

I promised myself that I would write just one blog post before the end of the year. And this is the year that I keep my promises, so.... here goes.

So it's winter time. This is the time when we take stock, gather the harvest, retreat into warmth, and just hang the fuck on until the world thaws again.

Now, I don't know about you, but this year was real good. Also just when I thought it was going to be good forever and all my problems would be behind me... (you know where this is going)... I got kicked in the ass by a whole lotta life.

But 2015 is closing down and I'd like to share with you the teeniest bit about what I've learned this year, if I may. Who knows where the fuck 2016 is gonna go but here's what's sticking with me outta 2015.

So, top things that come to mind that I've learned from 2015:

Time is speeding up.

Oh man, I am starting to write like it is going out of STYLE. I feel like this year -- just this year -- I just GOT IT that there's no guarantee that I'm going to live past tomorrow. I have a lot of things I want... NEED ... to write, create, and work towards mastery. So if not now... when?

A lot of the things that are "true" are actually just "beliefs".

Ok, stay with me here. I'm no physicist and there is a real possibility I will take us all down a rabbit hole with this section without any way of getting back up. There may be some things that are true, like water boils at 100 degrees celsius and flights to Australia are expensive and the grammar rule of "I before E except after C"... but here's where the mind fuck comes up... are all those things that REALLY true? Temperature measurements and grammar are just a series of agreements that a bunch of people decided upon.

Now, hear me out. I'm not wanting to say that time or money or the dewey decimal system "don't exist", or that we should live in an anarchist society. Perhaps on some level they don't and we should. But these rules are the CORNERSTONE of our society, and in order to function as an orderly Canadian citizen, I need to keep an eye on time and pay bills. I'm not here to argue that.

However. What I REALLY started to get a handle on this year is that I really wanted to change a lot of things that I really have no ability to change, and I thought a lot of things that were set in stone actually were not at all.

Like the idea that I always need to rush somewhere (what if I genuinely move slowly and consciously instead?). Or that someone always needs to bail me out when I get broke (what if I have the money and resources to fund myself?). Or the fact that when I don't get external validation after a show from other cynical, jaded comics, that it doesn't automatically mean I'M A SHITTY PERSON (what if I tell myself positive stuff and separated my worth as a human from the way I did a thing?).

I hate to say it but these are all new thoughts to me guys, for real. Now a lot of you are a lot smarter of me and are probably thinking "well this is common sense." So this leads me to my next thing...

I really don't have common sense.

So the next time anyone out there beats someone up for not having 'common sense', I really don't think I'm eligible to join in. Because I super duper DON'T have common sense. I just don't. I figure things out the hard way and I'm a stubborn biznatch and that's that.

Life is cyclical.

I've been learning lessons this fall that I thought I had MASTERED way back in the ol' 2007 when I was hit by that thing.

Oh well.

Gratitude is everything.

I know, I know, you hear it everywhere and it's annoying and stupid and sometimes you just had a crappy day and fuck this hashtag blessed shit. But UGGGGGGGHHHHH I hate that I'm saying this, but I REALLY have to be grateful for what I have. This winter, I had to go back to basics. For about 2 weeks, I was solidly getting the message from the Forces that Be that I really didn't have it that bad. I believe the direct universe's message -- through a variety of conversations, situations, and articles -- was "suck it the fuck up, princess". I got into a conversation with a woman from Johannsburg who was moving to Canada because not only is it SO unsafe that a white woman would not even CONSIDER leaving her house alone after dark, where they have to lock their car doors 100% of the time (even when inside) so as not to get car-jacked, oh and where she got sexually assaulted and robbed IN HER OWN KITCHEN... and suddenly my problems of paying my savings (which I miraculously had procured this year) to fix my computer (which was an easy fix) and having to jump back into work (which was readily available) seemed very small. Which also shows...

I dramatise like a motherfucker.

Goddamn goddamn goddamn am I a complainy shithead sometimes. If you are a friend and you've asked me how I was doing at any point over the past year (both through hte good AND the bad), and you're STILL my friend, remind me to fawn all over you like a puppy on a Milkbone the next time we hangout because jesus CHRIST do I like to turn that convo back onto me.

This too shall pass.

Sadly, that includes the good, and the bad... so time to just let that thing go. Celebrate or mourn the thing, grieve its loss, and let it go back from whence it came... because the things that happen TO me really can't make me happy. I'm in charge of that shit myself. Ugh. But also, cool, Depending on the day.

I did not learn how to prioritize as a kid. 

And that's ok. So  I freak out over small things. And when I notice I do it I've been starting to learn to...

Be Gentle, You're doing the best you can.

And that goes for you who are reading this.
 

Here's to 2016, to all you brave warriors who have made it another year on this planet and probably improved something in your life this year. You are the true heros and you are so fucking loved.

Let's call it a day, slap 2015 on the ripe buttocks, and tell Father Time what a kick-ass dance partner he was this year. Baby 2016 is waiting in the wings, I'll be sidling up to her with the ol' gratitude Electric Slide.

PS - Also since you've made it this far, here is a wombat in a santa hat. (The greatest of the marsupials)

Dear Musical theatre,

Today, I need to talk about a real fucking inspirational human being. It has taken me longer than I care to admit to comment on Lu's situation, because when my gremlins showed up this time, I listened to them for longer than I should have.

Hey, world. Been a while. Guess it's time for a post eh? Good thing cuz this is a loooong one.

I got into a pretty deep conversation a few nights ago with a couple boys in their mid-20s. To be completely honest, the fact that handsome young bucks were engaging in conversation for me without finding reasons to immediately run away was a marvel in and of itself, let me tell you. Not to mention the fact that our conversation was about deep shit.

I was really grateful for the opportunity to have such a frank conversation with cool kids… growing up, I certainly wasn't one myself (a cool kid that is... A shocking I know), and it's really only been in the past few years that I've started to come to appreciate men in their mid-20s for what they have to offer. I'm working on a blog about that right now but, suffice it to say, I'm getting way better at having real interactions with people without judging them for who they are.

We talked about a bunch of stuff… feminism, equalism, gay rights… and the words we use to slander others. In particular, the one word that we touched on was "faggot".





I can remember using this word once, as an insult. I was maybe 11 or 12, and I was bullied pretty hard that day by, um, let's call him Tony LaTelda. Tony was a terror in his own right and would often call me horrible names; but this one particular day, he was particularly mean. He hurt me so deeply… I wanted to hurt him back. I was not one to swear, though, and I didn't really watch many movies or read many books with insulting words so I had no idea how to insult. So when he called me a "Fat big Kahuna Dog" for the umpteenth time, I tried a new word I'd heard some boys say, and I screamed… "SHUT UP, YOU FAGGOT!"

He got quiet. A bunch of people got quiet. I don't exactly remember the sequence of events after that, or now long it took, until a teacher came over and said, "we don't say that word, that's a bad word", and I remember I got in trouble for using a word which meaning I did not know.

Now, upon reflection, I took a couple things away from this.

1) I totally understand how hate perpetrates hate. In that moment, I was so stung and shocked, all I could do was seek out the most hateful word I could think of so my pain would be distributed evenly. This could be elaborated upon in a future blog, most likely.

2) But more importantly: in that moment, I wasn't calling this kid a gay man and expecting him to be offended by it. I have an uncle who had lived with his husband for what must be 15 years now, Gay was always OK growing up, and I never heard any antagonism in my school or from immediate family towards homosexuality. Truth be told, I actually had no idea what this F-bomb meant... I guess I had just heard someone say it once at school or something and the other person had been offended or hurt or something... So it sounded insulting. At that point in this situation, all I wanted to do was insult Tony, what better way than this seemingly hurtful word?

I had an argument once in 2009 with a friend who identifies as a gay man, and he was saying using the words "gay" and "fag" and "queer" as a bad thing - even though they're desensitized - are terribly offensive. After all, the story goes that a "faggot" is really just a bundle of wood... That was used to burn people alive if they were thought to have engaged in homosexual activity. (WHAT!?)

At the time, I argued vehemently for being able to use these words now that "they're desensitized". "After all," I declared in my full 24-year-old sheltered Hetero white girl glory,"I may not BE gay, but I am an Ally, so I don't mean any harm by it!" AND, c'mon guys, these words are pretty fun to pronounce... I mean, really, how often do we get to say words that start with the letter "q"?

God bless this man for being so patient with me, in hindsight. His argument was that we may call these words "desensitized"... but are they?? As Macklemore so aptly put it: "A word rooted in hate." Which it is! As with the word "retarded" (slow in thinking), "lame" (limping/slow), "gipped/jipped" (how a gypsy would cheat you back in the day). Perhaps we have lost our origins... But does the use of these words in a derogatory manner not glorify their origins in some way?

"Heck no!" Said I, "When I say these words, I am not saying 'PEOPLE WHO IDENTIFY AS GAY ARE BAD,' I am saying, 'this word has lost its original meaning and now it just means bad in a silly way. I don't mean it hurtfully!"






I now see how this argument sucks, and I apologize to you, my friend from that convo 5 years ago, and anybody who has had to put up with these words in their lives. Let me share my reflections why:

1) it is still being used by people in its original intention of "GAY PEOPLE ARE BAD". As long as this happens, how on earth can we say this word has lost its meaning?!? It's not like we're using the word synonymously with "awesome" or "gorgeous" or "supaflyyyy". It's still used in a negative, deragatory manner?

2) Ok, and fine, assuming if - and a BIG "if" at that - the (let's assume) heterosexual person using this word does not even remotely associate this word with "GAY = BAD", (this jackass has lived under a rock, apparently), what about the homosexual (or otherwise) who has to hear this word in conversation? What about that person who WAS called these names in a hateful manner as a child, and had to bear the brunt of others' ignorance and malice?

Me, I was called "fat" a LOT as a child. There's more to be said about that; but for now, suffice it to say, I hear the word in ANY context, and I flinch. Sensory memory.

What if the word "fat" was actually a word we used in the same way?

I can only imagine... every time I would have to hear that I'm certain I would cringe. Just hearing that word in my head reminds me how I was led to believe I was bad for something I had no control over - and no idea of how to change. So, If that were the case? I would be on a CRUSADE to tell people to never use the word "fat" as a derogatory term again.

I don't self-identify as gay. I love me a good set of male washboard abs and I think vanilla male-female sex is the best. I don't even pretend to know what it's like to be criticized for the gender I'm attracted to… for generations, at that.

So who am I to say what offends those who do/have had all those things, and what doesn't?!?!? Shame on me for thinking I had a right to toss these words rooted in oppression, social ostracizing, and inhumane torture. And shame on all those Heteros who feel they can just drop some words and not feel responsible if they cause pain.









So when these super cute boys were arguing for unapologetically using this word in conversation as it has "lost its original meaning", I almost agreed with them. After all, we all learned that math equation in high school right? 1 uncool kid + 1 cool kids' table = 100% conforming.

But I took a sec to think, before delivering a (less eloquent and highly abbreviated) version of the above thoughts. I listened to their point of view, and shared what I thought. I'm not certain I convinced them, but I'm positive I made them think. Isn't that it's about!

Moral of the story: from now on, if you ever hear me say the word "gay" or "retarded", slap me across the face and call me a fat slut please.






Happy pride, everyone. Big hugs.

M

Ohhhh Haiiiii everyone!

Hope everyone's holidays have gone swimmingly. I won't pretend like mine weren't all over the place (maybe you read my previous blogs?) - but I WILL say that this rough spell is proving that I am stronger than I ever thought possible… as we all are. Mama Universe gives us just what we need! And I'm so grateful for the lesson.

A couple days ago, while snowboarding with my buddy Linds, I had some insights that I felt compelled to share. Maybe you can relate to them?

WHY SNOWBOARDING IS A METAPHOR FOR LIFE

1) The brain sure can make a mountain out of a molehill… self-talk will make or break your experience.
So I have this heights-thing. I can look at a hill that looks just fine one second, and then my brain will suddenly - out of nowhere - make it THE SCARIEST HILL EVER. Honestly, I had this one time earlier this season where I suddenly got stuck on a steep run after bailing and had to get down. And OH MY GOD was my brain not on board! I was certain - CERTAIN! - that if I moved an inch, I was going to tumble and die. I started to hyperventilate and give myself a minor panic attack.

In that moment, the only tool that I had available was self-talk. There was no one around me to coach me through it. All I had was I could say, "You can do this, you can do this, you can do this" over and over and over again. It was, for all intents and purposes - my mantra.

When in LIFE are we put in situations where we need to become our own cheerleaders to get us through a situation?

2) It's all about velocitization… Confidence is EVERYTHING.
Honestly, if you take away one bit of this blog… this is what I recommend. This big AH-HA! on the mountain was somewhat of a game changer, and kinda influenced the rest of my day.

Urban dictionary defines "Velocitization" as: The condition where frequently driving at high speeds affects your overall sense of speed. You become permanently velocitized.
4) You DO get better the more you do it!
This is the good news! That velocitization is staying with my body and mind, and every time I go up the mountain now, I feel myself get more and more comfortable with going faster and faster. I find myself taking more and more calculated risks… because I find them enjoyable, NOT because I feel like I "should" do them. And that's the difference, isn't it? Living life from FUN - not from other's expectations.

Like life… I find that I'm writing blogs, I'm starting to take more life and career-affirming action because I WANT TO, not because I need to prove stuff to anyone. Not anymore.

5) When things get scary, don't stop - keep going. It's easier… I promise.
Whew, this was a big one. There isn't a lot of snow on the mountains here in Van this season, so there's a bunch of ice hidden under man-made snow. When Linds and I approached a slightly steeper hill than we were prepared for, we noticed that it was essentially straight ice. Our first impulse was to full on pendulum down the hill… but this is a terrifying ordeal in itself (see #1).

And so, having all of these previous experiences under my belt, I tried a new approach - instead of stopping full-stop when I started to get scared, I acted "As If" … I decided to just barrel down the hill (again, with calculated risk… still felt somewhat in control of my body), and carve instead of flat out scraping down the hill.

And guess what?? IT WAS EASIER, GUYS!

That's right. Going with the flow - even when it's freakin' scary - was actually the answer. Who knew?!

4) Have your body Action-Ready for ANYTHING.
Keep your knees bent. Not only do the pros have to keep their knees bent as proper technique… I would argue that it's BECAUSE they have soft knees that they become pros! No matter what the landing of that jump, or conditions on the mountain, or size of the hill… curveballs can come at any time. So stay soft and open and you'll land more than you think.

7) You're gonna bail.
Kinda goes hand in hand with the previous one. So keep those knees bent.

5) Engage Your Core.
That shit's important.

8) Keep your eyes trained ahead on where you DO want to go, not directly in front staring at where you DON'T want to go.
You've all done this, right? Even if you don't snowboard… maybe you bike, or drive, and you're staring at the pothole that you know you shouldn't drive into… and 10 seconds later, there you are, driving into it. Or if you're riding, that one jerk who's fallen in front of you, you're caught up staring at them… and barrel straight into them?

It's so hard to train our brains to move from what we DON'T want to what we DO want… but doesn't it make all the difference in the world?

10) You may go up with friends, but you ride alone.
This one was a biggie for me. All that self-talk, all that inner game on the mountain… these are all MY musings. Sure, I have some company going up the lift, and standing in line, and sure Linds was there to appreciate the comedy as I rode straight into a rail (seriously it was ridiculous)… but at the end of the day, her experience that day was her experience, and mine was my own. Maybe that could be construed as a lonely part of life… but I don't think so. I think it's pretty magical, actually.

Well, there you have my musings over the past couple days. Comment, share and/or post if you feel so inclined… but mostly, keep living the dream, lovers. You got this.

With all love,
Meg

Oh, hey there world.

This is the view from my apartment, where I sit, alone. I'm surrounded by boxes because I just moved 3 weeks ago and have had far more important things to do than unpack fully since moving in.

It's snowing in Vancouver - a rare thing - and I'm feeling a lot of things. After all, it is the last day of my 20s. I'm shocked that today is finally here. I'm desperately hoping a person will text me back who is a distraction from all of the other very real things that have happened over the past couple months. I'm constantly refreshing Facebook to see who has started writing on my Facebook wall for my birthday. So far, just one buddy in Australia (thanks Matt!). I'm hoping I write a truly profound blog that will get shared and go viral and become everyones mantra for the day they turn 30. Or, at the very least, share enough that my newfound fame becomes the answer to "where is my career going?" - that question that I apparently should at least have a plan for.

But back to that first thing. Today is here. The future became the present. And tomorrow, apparently, things change. Tomorrow, I turn 30. And here I am… in that awkward state where if anyone asked me my age I would say "29" which I can really only do for like 6 more hours now.

Remember when we were all scared the world was going to end on Dec 21, 2012? It was the end of the Mayan Calendar, so all of 2012 leading up to that was supposed to be this new vibrational year where we shed our skin, experienced change, and anticipated the newfound growth of 2013. After Dec 21, 2012, we were launched into a new, exciting world where our deepest desires come to the surface and we live the life we were truly meant to live. Yaaaaaaaay…! remember that..? I do! I spent my 29th birthday in Seattle with my boyfriend, watching one of my idols, Louie CK, perform. I had felt some major career growth in 2012 - that was the year my lawsuit got settled, I toured my solo show, I committed to recovery, I hit a new level with the company I sell for. I even started to enjoy teaching! That Christmas, I went to Hawaii with my boyfriend and family, and boy did 2013 seem like it was going to be my year! Look out, new vibrational year!

…

Yeah.

What ensued was what I like to endearingly label "my own personal shit show".

Now don't get me wrong, it started out awesomely enough. I travelled to Palm Desert to see my family, met a whole bunch of my company "family" at a training in Saskatchewan, flew to LA to watch our web series get screened in a fancy festival, my solo show got picked up for a festival in NYC, the city that holds my heart, and I was part of a hit Fringe Show.

But then, around late March/early April, shit started to hit the fan… and more and more and more pieces began to pile on top of it. My agent dropped me. My partner did something that fucked with my trust and set in motion our eventual demise as a couple in the fall. My show flopped BAD in NYC. I tried to hand over my wounded heart to unhealthy people and suffered immense pain. And then, over a 2-week period in October, the following happened: partner and I split up, I moved out and in with parents, I started a completely new job, and I co-bought a place with my mom (hence the boxes). October was a month of total deer-in-headlights shell shock. November was the month of damage control. And December… December has been the month of straight-up reality check.

Since October, I've been starting to feel the nudges of "who I really am". I guess that's what you can call them. I've embraced my deep love for the hip hop culture, especially rap… my iTunes playlist is morphing. My tolerance for people's shit has plummeted and I've started scraping the fat from conversations I have with people (If I don't want to hang out with anyone, I'm not going to suggest 'going for coffee sometime'. fuck that). I'm pushing myself into the comedy community and have started doing stand-up. I am more sexually awake than ever, and I am taking a hard, long look at my patterns and am fiercely willing to partner with a higher force to take away what does not serve. If I feel a strong emotion, I will sit with that emotion and ask what it has to teach me, and what Little Meggie needs, and do my best to honour that request, as rational (or irrational) as it is. My "frequent caller" list is changing and shifting as the friends who meet me at my level are the healthiest people for me, and many others are sadly sifting to the pile of "unhelpful people right now".

In light of 2013's craycray, I decided to do what many others in my situation would do: CELEBRATE HARD. Go out dancing, meet new people, pour myself into new social situations. After all, Meg needs new friends in this new life I barely freaking recognize who she is becoming. So what better time to celebrate hard than my birthday week? Here's what I thought: "Since it's the week before Christmas, people are going to be all over the place, so I'll do something every night for people to attend"! So I did, I've planned something every night this week.

And it has sucked. My birthday week has sucked hard. Not only do most of my best friends I've compiled over the years live in different cities around the world, but of those I consider besties in Vancouver, very few have been able to make it to my activities. And I get it, December's a shitty time to have been born (sorry friends), my friends work and get auditions and blah blah blah. My little ego set up massive expectations, and ergo set me up for massive disappointment. Story of my 20s.

So where do I stand? When I was little, I made a list of "things to accomplish before I turned 30", which got revised upon graduating from high school in 2001. Guess what, folks? None of them had been met. Some of them, I'm ok with. "Lawyer by day and Ballet dancer by night", I'm  OK with not having achieved.  Being a "famous singer and on Saturday Night Live" … a little harder to swallow.

So why do I share all of this with you? I had hoped this would be a "kick-life-in-the-ass-and-turn-30 blog" about goals and shit… after all, many have written these before me and many more will do so after me. But that's not where I'm at. I don't even know what my goals are anymore. Stuff I used to think I was good at I'm learning I'm actually pretty crappy at. But stuff I thought I was lame at, I'm actually not too bad.

I'm freaked out, I'm disappointed. I want to make more art and I don't know which medium to start in. I feel more free than ever before, knowing many parts of my life that didn't serve me have fallen away… but I'm left, naked, on new terrain, and I don't know what it means. I'm unsure and I'm making mistakes left right and centre. I feel like I'm back in high school - the socially awkward girl kicked out of the 20s Club party and not quite invited to the 30s Club party, but not dressed for either. I don't know if the 30s Club will like me, or accept me, or if I have what it takes to kick ass, but all I have is the bags that I packed for myself. I've let go of some of the shit my family packed for me in previous years that was just heavy baggage, and I don't have everything that I will need for the coming decade. I guess all a girl can do is trust the work she's done has set her up to handle whatever life gets thrown at her.

Well, on that note, I'll see y'all on the other side of 30. Party hard and stay safe, everyone.

And you thought the Rob Ford rants were over. Surprise! Jumping on the bandwagon…


This one will be my only one, though. Because mine is not a rant on this certain man's behaviour: that's been covered. We all know that this is not a person in sound mind to make reasonable choices for the better of the people around him and not on himself.

My rant is concerning how we - not just Toronto, but the media and indeed, the world at large - is dealing with it.

And hey, don't get me wrong. I preface this to say I don't condone a thing Mr. Ford has done. If you're not familiar with the throes of addiction, check out Dr. Gabor Mate's work. He speaks to how we could (dare I say Should?) work with addicts and addiction - in others AND ourselves - it far more eloquently and succinctly than I.

HOWEVER. Allow me this space to be rageful. For some reason, our society has gone WILD with Anti-Bullying. Google "anti bullying" and you could be entertained for days. Our tax dollars have gone to full school PROGRAMS to "cut down on bullying" (check out pinkshirtday.ca). There is "zero tolerance" for any kind of abuse - physical, verbal, or otherwise - at many schools these days.

And yet…

How many of US - as parents, peer mentors, role models, co-workers, bosses, or even users of Facebook - REALLY take the time to look at our words? How many of us have paid attention to the fact that we might, just might, have a sphere of influence where people... gasp… look up to us and value our opinion? And how many times do we attempt to connect with people who are "cooler" than us, or whatever, by saying MEAN THINGS about EASY TARGETS?


There was a dude at the bar last night who spent a good 20 minutes of the night - loudly, I might add - telling everybody what he thought of the "red-faced fatty" to his table of drunk young 20-somethings, all quite attractive and dressed well. Clearly this man was influential in his circles, as he had a rapt audience.

I was at a course all day today, on a topic with NOTHING TO DO with politics, or comedy, or Toronto. And yet, the very first keynote speaker of the day came up and spent over 5 minutes of his 20 minute lecture (that's one quarter, folks), playing Jon Stewart/Stephen Colbert/Jimmy Kimmel clips on the current affairs, and the speaker himself made MEAN jokes about Rob Ford. I believe I counted no less than 7 - probably closer to 12 or 13 - times that this speaker said the word "crack" and "drugs" with sheer disdain in his voice.

Both of these guys were probably nice people. The second guy in particular is quite accomplished in his line of work, he has a young family in a respectable neighbourhood, AND HE'S A MOTIVATIONAL SPEAKER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!!! Really Mr. ______???? The ONLY way you felt you could engage an audience who PAID TO HEAR YOU SPEAK was by spending ONE QUARTER of your speech making fun of a man who's clearly in SERIOUS EMOTIONAL PAIN????????? And who knows what other chemistry is all fucked in his brain from substance abuse and possible trauma???

Let me be clear. I am not a perfect human (much as my ego attempts to convince me hourly that I am). I have said some mean stuff and I thought Jon Stewart's bits have been pretty fucking funny. I even LIKED a mashup photo of Miley Cyrus treating Rob Ford's face as a Wrecking Ball. He needs to step down, and then do whatever healing work he's ready to do. But I'm a product of this society and I am committing to you… no more Rob Ford jokes. It's getting old and it's getting sad.

Because my JOB is to be a role model for the kids I teach and nanny. And how are our kids supposed to NOT bully - either inside or outside of school - if all they receive on the media is that "Bullying is Cool, Bullying is funny, and it's only OK if you go for the easy targets". Have some compassion, everyone, leave the guy alone. And maybe… just maybe… you might find that as you take your attention off an easy scapegoat, you might just look inside… and see you have some healing work of your own that you need to do.

We really live in a world of knee-jerk reactions.

The more I experience, the more I realize my pattern of just running towards the "new" and away from the "familiar". Why is that? Maybe the "familiar" is synonymous - in my conditioned way of thinking - with the "imperfect" and therefore the "unworthy".

The Banyen Tree in Lahaina, Maui is one huge tree with extensive roots.

So many times we're told - from all different sources - to believe that if "something isn't working", we need to "run away". Why is that? Why run away? What will running away get us? Well, honestly?  More and more, I realize that it will just get us the same pattern, only with a different person in a different city, maybe even a different country, or whatever. And chances are, the stakes will be higher, because we didn't listen the first time.

I've really been noticing recently how scared I am to confront certain aspects of myself, and to set boundaries in some certain circumstances. And I won't get too much into the deep personal details - because honestly they don't really matter - but rather than have conversations, deal with things, and keep showing up, I've just wanted to cut and run. "A new situation would be SO MUCH BETTER than the one I have now... a fresh start... I can be a whole new person... ".

Is that really true?

Sure, a new situation means new people who can meet me and take me for my word when I introduce myself to them. But the thing about new people - and this is a broad generalization, so bear with me - is that every new person we meet (especially in society) - is one more person where I can live in STORY. And I'm realizing, more and more, that when I'm in STORY, I'm avoiding GROWTH. Does that make sense?

I'm reminded of plants here. I know, I know, I know it's cliche. Plants without roots die. Any ol' kinda plant. I understand some plants thrive with smaller roots than others. Some don't need soil, they can hang out in water, some roots are so extensive they can be just one plant and take over a block (have you ever seen the Banyen Tree in Lahaina?).

When I live in story, my roots grow horizontally. I grow sideways, I grow on the easy part of the soil. The part that gets used up quickly before I have to go to the next one. Akin to the gas-guzzling car, I am a voracious consumer of people's energy. I tell these new friends stories about my life, about my ankle, about my personal growth, about my Arbonne business, about this and that show I'm doing ... you name it. And in different countries, I get to have a whole story about being CANADIAN! Oh isn't that exciting - there's so many things they don't know about this country! And suddenly I get to be someone else.

Do you think it's a coincidence I became an actor?

Don't get me wrong. Travelling is one of the best things we can do as a society to broaden our horizons, and I intend to travel regularly until my last breath. Meeting new people can blow your mind wide open and teach you so many cool new things about different cultures, different perspectives, different ways of thinking.

But if I don't work on the relationships I have with those near and dear to me, who I let see me at my worst, who I see at their worst, who I teach myself to love at all stages, and who provide the mirror for me to really look long and hard at who I am and what I stand for... who are the people I'm attracting into my life, really? How am I teaching them to treat me, and what do I have to offer them in return?

Because if I offer them a shallow root system, I am a shell of what I know I could be, and the slightest wind will knock me over. Trust me. I've seen it happen again and again and again.

So, today, I pose to you: How can you grow your roots a little further, be a little sturdier... and where is your STORY wanting you to uproot?

With so much love,

Meg

Hey there world,

Just touching base. It's been a rough night, and I thought I'd share some of my thoughts with you.

September, 2013. Here we are, right back at September... and, once again, after having a huge, life-changing, quantum-leap summer...

I'm right back to where I started.

Did I even go away? Did I really have experiences?

Has this ever happened to you? Have you gone away, had a major life-shifting event... then coming back feels like -- as my friend Paula says -- your "toes are cut off trying to fit back into your shoes?". That's where I'm at.

Don't get me wrong - Vancouver is beautiful. I'm lucky to be employed at a job that pays reasonably well for the hours that I work, and to have such thoughtful, caring co-workers. There is so much gratitude here... yet, why does my heart hurt so much?

New York was LIFE-CHANGING. I think. I mean, everything was clicking, the Universe was offering me gifts upon gifts, people's schedules just magically would merge with mine, and I just felt like I had valuable pieces to offer the world. And I come back, and it feels like I've been running and just slammed my solar plexus into a hurdle. The wind feels knocked out of me.

I can't continue living this way, I just can't. I can't keep having to "come down". And therein lies the choice... does one choose to not have expansive experiences because it's just too painful to contract back into where she was before? Or does this same person simply throw caution to the wind and negate all prior responsibilities following the perfection that is a 6-week vacation?

Has anyone else ever experienced this? What have your choices been... or did Providence step in at the very last moment and make the decision for you? I'm all ears.

With all love,
Meg <3>