I finally realized that if I wanted to change the present, I had to change my past.

One is connected to the other.  At times, I misbehaved, was destructive and selfish, arrogant and withdrawn, frightened and traumatized. Changing my life was a big order, and I trembled when I thought of the scope of it. Who was I  to think I could do that?

The way I did it – I will never be completely done – was to touch the present deeply, all the way to my heart – to find love, to do good, to shed anger and fear, to light the creative spark, to understand the worst and better parts of me so I could decide before it was too late just who I wanted to be.

I learned from a gifted therapist that the wounds and traumas of the past are all still there and will always be there. In recognizing the harm I have done, I also recognized the damage done to me and gave it the respect – not guilt or grievance – that both deserved.

To do that, I had to know who I was. That was the heart part—facing the truth about myself. That was my turning point. When I knew who I was, I knew what I needed to change and moved towards being the person I wanted to be rather than the person others created for me.

I removed the drama and suffering from my story. There was only truth. There were no good guys and bad guys, no victims and monsters. I stepped back and saw it from a distance.

As I tried to be there for the wounds and injuries of people I love, I decided to be here for the wounds and injuries I had received without bitterness, revenge, or self-pity. I realized I couldn’t deal with one side of the issue without dealing with the other.

As I spoke to the child within me and to those I love,  I told myself, “I’ll be there for you.” I became determined not to do those things and make those mistakes again. So far, so good. I’m not perfect, but I’m getting closer to good. Transformation and change are possible for me.

I’m in a good place and working towards a better one.

In her joy, seeing Maria with her animals in the morning lifts the heart. It is a posture of love.

I couldn’t find Zip this morning. He was sleeping under the wheelbarrow,  one of his many thrones. He popped out as I walked by.

Zinnia is taking her morning swim. She loves to swim to her limbs, but she doesn’t like to bring them back.

Lulu says hello. Translated: give me a treat. I always do; I can’t resist her eyes and nose.

Succulent, window sill gallery.

The raised garden bed is now in operation. I just wanted to know more to come.