Down the Rabbit Hole


We all live in our own reality. I knew that expression 2 weeks ago. It was just that to me, an expression, a quote. Some new age hippie bs, whatever.

I always categorized myself as someone who was “kicking ass”. I was a rebellious teen who had really lived an exciting life. Then a successful single mother. I had a silver Mercedes. I had a “dream” career in Hollywood. I admired everything about Harvey Specter from Suits. I worked my tail off and people liked me. All good.

Then it all disappeared. My reality was suddenly something very real and I was watching it crumble like a sandcastle.

When I woke up 2 weeks ago, in Calgary Alberta (no offence) a single mother of two very young boys, with no job, staring at an email from my ex’s lawyer that he was listing our house for sale; just like that.

It seems clear on the outside, just find somewhere else to go Lauren-.

But it’s not so forking clear when this tiny house you bought together in a foreign country is all you know.

I couldn’t see it as clear. I didn’t want to see any of it!

Every email from Adam Mair ( Canada’s   🇨🇦 Worst realtors) felt like a wave crashing into me, leaving my eyes blurry, my ears ringing and terrifyingly disorientated.

My hair was all straggly, I didn’t want to see anyone. In between gasps of air I emailed complete strangers for help. The only person who responded (without a credit card authorization slip) was the fantastic inspiring Alexa Mason. Did I heed her wise advice? Nope. No I did not, I didn’t do anything productive in fact (except become a research expert on just about every new age/self help rabbit hole) without actually helping myself.

I couldn’t accept that my own mind had somehow talked me out of who I was. My mind had decided that mediocre was fine. My former cheerleader and greatest ally, myself, had suddenly turned on me.

Our  minds can be a bit sneaky like that. The mind doesn’t want to be carefully examined,or dictated to, much less over ruled. So my mind slowly began to conjure up +67,890 reasons that could be a scapegoat.

It had to be something else. It had to be ANYTHING ELSE than me taking full accountability + responsibility and hardest of all: taking control for discipling my own mind.

In between fantasy and reality my ego said Aha! Maybe I hadn’t done enough Feng Shui for April, better go rearrange the entire house,  buy some foo dogs online.

Maybe it’s the high altitude and barometric pressure changes in Calgary. The chinooks can be a good scapegoat as to why my life feels meaningless and my procrastination is increasing.

As the hours ticked away, my research into; barometric pressure, vitamin deficiencies, my rh negative blood type, Vedic horoscope, Eastern and Western philosophies, geomagnetic storms, solar flares, all theories were openly appealing to mind. This “research” was surprisingly wielding few answers.

the Secret, “The Law of Attraction”, “subliminal mind reprogramming” & “don’t commit suicide today!”

All good advice.

But I kept waking up feeling exactly the same.

Stuart Wilde, my mind loved that idea,  stay home and manifest miracles.

I wanted someone, anyone to tell me how how I felt. Tell me I’m not in charge of my own destiny, tell me I hadn’t created this life where I had lost myself in mind. My living room littered with cheap dollar store Buddhas, arabic prayer writings, Amazon crystals, cupboards of vitamins and herbal remedies.

The further down the rabbit hole I went the darker it became. This ship had a hole in it, everyone jump off now, save yourselves.

I wished I was going insane in those days.

Because I was sane but I couldn’t for the life of me find a direction, find any meaning in my existence. I  wanted to cry in bed or more honestly get drunk and cry, with Xanax to clean up the mess of me
I can’t because I’m a mom. And I’m beyond grateful for the chance to be trusted with these perfect souls.

And Harvey Specter wouldn’t cry.

I had re started once again, this time in Calgary. 🤮

Determined to carve out a new life with my son. I quit most obvious bad habits, moved  two thousand miles away from everyone I knew.

I really thought I could outrun myself. Instead I had repeated myself,

with another son. A general lack of sleep. But filled with gratitude and humility z

I was comparing myself to all the people who had a marriage,a team mate and I started to suddenly blame and attack myself for why I was a single mom.

I would start a new project, not finish it, then let it irritate me every time I saw it unfinished.

I was self sabotaging but I couldn’t recognize it because I was carrying so much contempt for myself.

Again, in that reality, I was coasting along, able to take and discard the numerous “wake up Lauren slaps” and opportunities life kept hitting handing me. Because I didn’t think I deserved anything, I had become so self aware,so self conscious. My mind started to rip up old my ideas of myself, my self esteem to shreds, murderously and without notice.

If you want to remain the same, don’t ask where God is, or God where are you? Because he will show you. He will show you that your pathetic life is not serving anyone, not yourself, not your kids and definitely not the greater good.

I came to realization eventually that the only way out of this mind trap was to strive for the greatest good you can do in that moment.

When you feel overwhelmed – just do the next right thing.

make a sandwich.

To bring my chaotic life slowly but surely back into order I now know I should strive to go to bed knowing I did a little bit better job that day than I had done before.

I began to realize that everything my parents and the older generations had tried to teach me, was correct.

.Get up, make your bed, answer the calls , look at your bank accounts (even if that seems scary) raise these kids,stop blaming,be grateful, be open to possibility, strive to be more industrious, fix things that needed fixing.

Handle your shit.

Though I felt alone in those days I later felt like God was there the whole time. Listening to me act like a toddler. Waiting for me to finish my tantrum so he could show me how to behave better. And there I was. No sandcastle, two babies, all alone with my reflection, every wave exposing another lie I hadn’t wanted to see.

And I was finally fine with it. I picked my butt up and aspired from then on out I would aim higher. Do better. I would follow the straight and narrow path that our forefathers had carved out for us. My mind left to its own devices is a terror. But if I redirected it, focused it on doing the things that needed to be done and helped it to stop being scared of the million things that can be scary at any given time, things started to get better.

Start with making your bed. Take it from there.

sandcastle life

Published by TheGoodEffect

Lust for Life

9 thoughts on “Down the Rabbit Hole

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