To all my beautiful messes…



Life can be f***ing cruel sometimes (sorry mom, I know…I owe you a dollar).

The world’s unfairness can knock the wind out of you. Falling hard and pressing its weight heavy on your chest. Adrenaline pumping as you gasp for air. Wanting desperately to fill your lungs but being unable to grasp it, unable to grab your breath and inhale the oxygen. The moments feeling like a lifetime.  Once you catch your breath, around the corner another blow hits. Right now in the solar plexus, you hear more news that burns holes in your soul and lets the pain flood in again.

The guilt follows that pain. Like a skeleton twin, closely behind but estranged from the pain. Presenting its pompous and pretentious demenour to the pain. Making sure we know that guilt holds the cards. Guilt that makes no sense. Guilt that tells you how to act, how to feel. Guilt that manipulates your logic. Guilt that masks its self in karmic intentions. The feeling of undeserving joy because pain is happening all around you. It connects your feelings, your choices, your words to the outcomes surrounding your pain. wrapping its self around you like a tightly wound coil. Burning slowly and breaking you down.

We know no more then what our reality is, and yet we drown in the pain around us. We feel the weight of it all on us.Wanting more then anything to fix the messes that we have noticed. That we have seen created around us. Spreading our energies out, thinly and conservatively, stomaching the blows.

We pay attention to the world. We see the beauty in the sunlight,  the treasure in the dark. But we feel the pain breaking our hearts. Because we pay attention.

The cheery face we wear, hoping to allow it to mask the pain that we feel. Hoping the smile hides the loneliness that we feel for the people we miss. Praying our laughter will help us to forget how each day can be a struggle because we pay attention.

Losing our grip in a second, crumbling below the straws that broke or humped backs. Anger, frustration, sadness into the wrong directions. Spewing out like a broken hose.

Because we feel like failures for not making it better, messes for not cleaning it up. But we are not. We feel to much, hurt to much and notice to much. We are Spirited, told to dial down the passion. Told to push back the tears, carry the weight, hold our tongue. Because WE are too much.

We are not a messes, I promise you. We simply notice. We simply See.


Losing our stories: how today’s storytelling is breaking us down.

Storytelling has been a part of our cultural, our society for centuries. Humans have used storytelling platforms to pass on their history, to entertain, to share and to connect. From the very beginning  we have used our skills to tell stories to better ourselves as a race, this incredible human race. The act of weaving, creating, building and dictating stories is built into our core. It is in our bones, made up in our blood and is an important part of who we are.

Graceless beauty

Instinctively we desire stories. No matter how much we change and grow as a society, we crave the connection that a good story brings. We want to share ours, hear others, watch new ones and read deep ones. We simply crave the existence of well developed characters, amplified dialogue and fulfilling plot. Just think of how amazing you feel after a good book or at the end of an incredible movie? We still need our stories. It simply creates the people we become.

Our primal connection to ‘the stories’ has lessened as we have ‘grown’ as a society.  Our world is expanding and we are becoming more technology based. Science has taken us so far. It has developed our world into something almost unbelievable.  But with technology, come less attachment to one another, and nothing can replace that. Human connection, a key ingredient the fulfillment of storytelling. We have moved so away from shared fire pits while communities circle together sharing stories and learning from one another. We have lost that primal need to be near each other creating and learning.

We have become a world that simply swallows our stories whole. We eat them up, without sharing. We are creating story indigestion. Pain travels up and we gulp it all down.  We sit solo on our computers and read article after article telling us what we should think, who we should be and how we should live. We circle around giant screens and watch dramatic depictions of the terrible depths the human race has gone. We watch, hear and read about the hatred, anger and persecution that surrounds us. We take it all in, without realizing where, what, who and why it has been sent here. We lose the connection to the purpose, to what it was meant to teach us.


We crave storytelling so strongly that we still create our own stories. But since we are so over stimulated by obtrude and over processed tales, we are slowly losing our ability to creatively weave stories that better us and our lovely roommates on this beautiful earth. So instead we degrade each other. Create dramatic stories that belittle one another. We gossip. We judge, point fingers and blame. We displace our own confusion and dysfunctional emotions on to our fellow humans. We are so disconnected that instead of weaving tales of love, growth and emotional acceptance of who we are we break each other apart.

We tearing each other down hoping to find the missing piece that is lost in our own soul. But my friends, we will not find that gem in the rubble of our broken spirits. The answer lies in us. In our stories. Our ability to creatively weave them into channels of knowledge and growth.  We listen, we love, we create. We build each other up and learn from one another. This journey is shared one. We need each other.


Today’s problems would disappear if we talked TO each other instead of ABOUT each other.


See the sun light today my friends. Feel the warmth. Grow your branches out and lift each other while you do so. Live tall, love strong and lift each other up.

…You need our poetry.

I read something on ‘Momastery‘  yesterday that I truly felt deep. Deep into my soul, a connection that made perfect sense.

Because yes, I’ve got these conditions—anxiety, depression, addiction—and they almost killed me. But they are also my superpowers. I’m the canary in the mine and you need my sensitivity because I can smell toxins in the air that you can’t smell, see trouble you don’t see and sense danger you don’t feel. My sensitivity could save us all. And so instead of letting me fall silent and die — why don’t we work together to clear some of this poison from the air?

The world is a rough place. A rat race. A hamster wheel. It can feel like a never ending battle to get to the next day, and I reject that. Right now, I simply reject that.

I don’t want to live in a world where my prayers are for each day to end. Just to get to the next, to do what? I don’t want to live a life where I put up walls and and wear emotionally protective armor, just to get by.

I want to use my sensitivity to better what is around me. The life that surrounds me and bleeds into you. I want to change what is around us. I want my children to see what true living is. What passion is. What empathy is. I want to show true love, a nonjudgmental love. I want to practice these qualities. Not speak of them with words of flowery praise, giving then poetic justice. I want to feel them, deep within. Sinking to the bellows of my spirit and taking root.

I am ready to let those feelings out, because I cannot behind a mask.

A mask made up of expectations and perceptions.

Mental illness has been a struggle for me for a long time. Depression and  anxiety. A struggle that for far to long I was ashamed of, so instead of owning who I am, who I was,  I busied  myself. I presented a version of me that I thought was what the world needed, what I though I needed.

I was wrong.

That version was naked, cold and lost. She did not belong.

The truth was always there, hidden behind fear. My world, the world needs me. As your world needs you.

My mask is off, my perceptions and expectations are on strike and I am ready to feel radiant in my truth.

Because we need your science and you need our poetry. Maybe we are here not just to be saved by you—but to save you back.

And in honor of the that quote from the amazing Glennon Doyle, I am sharing with you the poetry that I have been working on in my poetry course: Soul Holdings, A windy aftermath, Hunger, Escape, High, Pieces

Soul Holdings:

Honesty is the strong birch that digs deep with its roots and holds tall in its branches.

When you breath out your words,

your truth,

ideas of fresh insight fill the space, and make hearts soar.


Knowing with each thought your soul

is growing.


into it’s space.

It’s inhabitance.

 Where your truth lies,

the purest version of you resides.

 like the smile on your lips

or the giggle in your voice.


Your honesty shapes the energy.

Brings light to the dark.

 That truth is every part of you.

All that your soul holds.

A windy aftermath:

 Anger, a frothy bubble.

Exploding outwards from the top layer.

A volcano of emotion, destroying all around.


the boiling that scares deep.

Something fierce.

 The rage that comes,

is nothing short of intense.

 Sweeping the perimeter of all that is soft.

Taking away the breath of the space.

 With all its glory,

it passes quickly.

 Leaving all the wreckage.

 With its pass,

it brings a breath of fresh air.

 A bustering breeze.



 My desire for you is a burning incense.

Soft and sweet from a far, hot to touch.

A burn to the flesh.

 A hunger so deep,

it seems intangible,

unsatisfied and beyond reach.

 A need for your presence,

your true and honest existence.

 Your created beauty connecting with mine.

 I need you deeper,

than ever before.

 To fill me like no other.

longing to feel,

knowing that it will come.

 The moment arising,

to over fill my cup,

pouring out over the sides.

 To fill me up.


The narrow path feeds into the darkness, drinking it all in. Like the straw that sucks a thick milkshake.

Sucking hard. Slow, debilitating, the movement so slow, manipulating her into a trance.

Stealing her core movement. What she needed to feel. How she needed to move.

Stuck in molasses. Controlled and forced. She cries out.




It only gets worse. More narrow. More congested.

It fills her, weighs her down.

Sinking deeper and deeper.

Into an abyss. One she will never escape.


Chasing the High, flying to the sky,

drifting higher and higher.

High and fast, away from here.

Floating up into the clouds, disappearing.

Losing the fight,

giving up and flying high.

Higher and higher.

Never looking down.

Floating, flying, gliding.


She falls.

Hard and fast.

Crashing down harder the anchor penetrating to the bottom of the deep dark sea.

Falling deep into the turbulent waters below.




Deep into the darkness, she waits.

She waits until she can fly again.

High once more. Again and again.

Before she plummets deeper than ever before.


Bubbling up.


These urges taking the place of everything else.

To destroy, a destructive force to rage on. Raging on without restraint.

The yelling piercing through the heart like daggers. Digging deep and twisting hard. The cursing pouring alcohol into the wound. Stinging and burning with unbelievable pain. Shearing forces tearing it apart.

To pieces, till there is nothing left.

Lost in inferno, the soul remains burn. Cackling, spitting. The fire grows, burning on.

The inner battle adding gasoline to the flames. Each thought fuels it on, each concept of guilt or regret grows the flames to new heights.

A rager.

Full out and firey.

Much love,


self portrait

Dearest Younger Jess…

This weekend has been filled with reminiscing. I love to appreciate the past often, but it seems to be the trend for me over the last few days. It may have been the beautiful wedding reception we attended this weekend. It felt like a reunion of past friends.
My great friend Kelly said it best.
‘Its like a high school reunion, but I don’t want to avoid anyone. ‘
It was a great time and very needed to bring light to our drab January.

Also we received a scrap book of sorts from my beautiful mother in law. It documented my husband and his adolescent achievements.

All of these moments sparked me to write this letter. I wasn’t going to share it but I think many can relate to similar thoughts In your own life and maybe get us thinking.

Dearest younger Jess,

Let me start off by saying you are beautiful. Really. I know you won’t believe me as you never believe anyone when they will say that to you, but you are. And I know I am right. I have seen you like no other has. I promise you.
You are not fat. Your hair is not to frizzy and your thighs are not to big.
You are beautiful and some day you will look back at pictures and truly wonder what you were thinking.
Believe them…even your mom, when they tell you that you are beautiful. They speak the truth.
Speaking of your mom, be nice to her. You are not and will never be too cool for your family. Your mom is amazing and soon enough you will not be able to survive without her. You will want to be like her, you will pray on a regular basis that you can be like her. Strong and beautiful.
You may now avoid all opportunity to get closer to the wonderful family that you have been blessed with but some day you will crave that closeness.
You will want to play with your sisters again. You will never be too old for it. You will want to go to movies with rick, not roll your eyes when he suggests it.
You will want them. Treat them nice. They are amazing and some day you will really see just how lucky you are.

Remember to spend time with the people you love. Before you know it they will not be here. Take it from me, you will regret the times you did not spend with them. Not the times you did. It happens so quickly, it feels like you blink and they are gone. We lost grandpa last year and on a regular basis I think about all they things I wanted to ask him or talk to him about.
All the books I wanted to share with him and stories I wanted to hear.
I know some day I will have a chance to hear them but it still doesn’t change the fact that I miss him everyday. Take the time, life is short and you will miss the people you love.

You are one of the lucky ones. The friends you have now will be there for you through it all. They will stick by your side and cheer you on. Treat them with respect and love. Do not give into the exciting drama that is adolescent friendships. The friends you are making now will be lifetime companions. The drama unfolding will not have any importance to you in the big picture. Love those friends with all your heart and treat them as you would want To be treated.

Now, it is very important that you read this next bit. You know that boy with the icy blue eyes and quiet voice? The one that makes your heart flutter. He loves you. Really. I promise. You may have no idea why and wonder if it is all a dream but I promise you he loves you.
Let him.
If you let him love you in his way, you are painting the picture of spectacular love.
You will watch him grow up. In the process, he will drive you nuts, push you over the edge and at times it will be hard.
Very hard.
But it will all be worth it. He holds the key to your fate. The life set out for the two if you is beautiful.
Believe me, I live it.
The beauty takes my breath away. That boy will grow up to become a man who will he share his life with you. You will create beautiful children. Children that hold a little of both of you in their being.
A little boy with eyes that make yours heart flutter in a different ways.
A little girl that makes you laugh in only ways you though that he could.
A little girl who loves so fiercely, with all of her being. Just like her daddy.
Your family will be everything you ever dreamed of. Just remember that he is beautiful the way he is. Perfect in his own skin. His love is unique, his style his own. Let him be him, try not to change him.

Your life ahead his going to be a great one. At times I will tell you that you will struggle to see the light but it will always be there. It will always be ok.
Just smile, the more you smile the happier you are. Fake it till you make it sweetheart. It always works, because you are strong and will always make it.
Your life ahead is gorgeous. Travel the road in your own step, maybe try to have some fun while you do it.

Much love,

Older and wiser Jess.

Continue reading

Your beauty.

A nap time confessional.
A moment peace in my new creative space.



Trust the universe.
Hope for you
Faith in the beauty.

Share with us your beautiful song.
Sing deeply and longingly.

Invite us into your beautiful soul.
Eagerly waiting the invitation…
Into the amazing creation that is

You. Only you.
Your story so profound. Your beauty so breathtaking.

Share that song with us.
Write those words

Share that beauty.

Because there is no one in the world quite like you.
An honour it is to be near such a life force.

The world is waiting. To hear…to feel… And to see you LIVE.

Each of our own stories are begging to be heard. They are begging to be set free. Because there is one else like you and no story quite like yours.

Shine the beauty on!

Much love,


New joy brought with a 90’s playlist.

fire burning,
Incense burning.

Oldie hits of OUR past.
Creating background soundtracks to the scenes of our morning.

Kids screaming about spilt trail mix while green day with lyrics of days past. A life before them…

Seemingly reminiscent.
Moments and mornings spent,
Of our dreams.

No plan,
No inherent destinations.
Calm times with no dependency.

The came the arrivals of extra limbs.
And wanting.


But then ace of base came,
He saw the sign.
Without them, the joy of the sign is lost.

Our other baby’s spinning furiously.

A light shed on a moment of our past.

Then we ‘forgot about dre’
Soon remembered,

By her hip hop moves

Things may be different.
But a new view towards a fresh perspective.
Without them, so much forgotten.

Those quiet and different days of the past’.

Much love,

Jessica IMG_0261.JPG

Vibrant light: the beginning of 2015

We celebrated an amazing New Year’s Eve and day. Nothing extraordinary happened, but that is what made it awesome. Great friends, lots of food and drink and a lazy day. It was full of laughter, conversations and fun. Memories were made and friendships were strengthened. It was a wonderful 24 hours. I even made it out for a run with my powerful and amazing running team.
Over the evening hours last night, we talked about resolutions. My favourite topic. We all had a different approach. The most popular, get healthy was a big one. Some didn’t believe at all in resolutions. And some were as practical as changing the kitty litter more often.
I finally decided my resolution. My goal oriented resolution is to write a poem a day ( yes, that is right Miss Katelyn , you are stuck with my poetry). I received a beautiful journal for Christmas that I plan to write my ‘365 poems of 2015’ in.


And my vague life oriented resolutions are:

To do what I love
To smile more
To find more fun in my days.

It is gonna be a good year!

Poem for Jan 1, 2015.

vibrant light

The days are open.
To be mine, only mine.

Mine to decide,
Mine to create.

Filling them with
Joy and laughter.

Finding the fun in all the
Little corners of my life.

Creating adventures, and smiles.
Composing memories, forevermore.

Being that vibrant energy.

Filling the every pore.

Seeing the colour and being the light.

My choices,
My life.

Much love,