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I Give Because I Love. I Love Deeply Because I Remember… I WILL NEVER FORGET!

To give, is better than to receive. A life lesson many of us became familiar with at a young age. It was a lesson and practice that was instilled in me very early on in childhood. “You are to give freely and always put the needs of others ahead of your own.” A statement that I heard regularly and was something that became an everyday practice, for me at least. It was a practice that would become a habit and a habit that would eventually become an obsession. Well maybe not…. well let me think, yup it became an obsession. One that would last about 50 years or so. Seems like a long time. A long time that seemed to pass by so very quickly. This post is about some of the things I learned on this part of my journey.

Giving can come at a cost, as we all know. Giving of what, you might ask? Giving how? In what context? The type of giving I am talking about giving of yourself. The practice of freely giving away love, care and understanding and compassion, or lending a physical helping hand, to those who would take and take until the tank is dry. Until a day comes when you find you have nothing left for yourself. It is the exhaustive type of giving that can become too much, long before you realize what is or has happened. The type of giving that could in fact cost you everything. Maybe even your life…

My start in life was very challenging to say the least and I simply did not have the tools that I needed to protect myself. I had safe havens that I could retreat to when possible. My grandparents always gave me a loving and safe space when they were available. I am thankful that I had them and my animal companions in my young life. I may not have made it in this world without them.

My immediate family taught me many valuable lessons with their ways and their philosophies on life and how to treat others. They taught me to do as they asked, regardless of how it made me feel, or, there would be consequences. The physical consequences were easier to heal from than the emotional ones I suffered. I was very young and was uneducated in the ways of mental warfare, at that time. It seemed that their feedback was negative no matter what I did. So, in trying to follow the one example that I truly valued, my Grandparents, I tried to fight back with kindness. If I’m being honest, I would say that there was the odd occasion when I was not so kind. These were actions that I would come to regret and paid the price for. I was far from perfect, but it would seem that those who mistreated me saw my attempts at kindness as weakness and as a result, I failed miserably in their ways of war.

It seems that for years, I have tried to give love, compassion and kindness and simply taken the cruel and abusive words and actions handed back to me by many. I think that this may have been because of my early and harsh teachings. I just held onto the hope that if I just keep trying harder and if I just give a little more, maybe it would be enough. It never was. I did my very best to treat them like I wanted to be treated. That’s the rule, right? So, if they in turn treat me the way they wanted to be treated, we truly were polar opposites. Because, I sure did not want to be treated that way. Not at all.. As a result of all this pushing and trying harder and harder, my health started to deteriorate. It was at little at a time at first and then slowly it progressed more and more, for some time. It is truly amazing what you can get used too. Eventually, and then drastically, it deteriorated to a point that now I am only a part of the person I used to be. The actions and words of these hurtful and abusive beings broke my heart. It started with little chips and small cracks, and now, there is literally a part of my heart that is dead and will never function again.. But that’s ok, I am tough and I will keep on going! They won’t beat me!!

In addition to my broken heart, I have many, many scars. The physical ones, some of which I will share in future posts, have been the easiest to heal from. The mental ones not so much. But I’m doing the work. I’m trying with all my might, everyday. Everyday I do the work in doing research and learning new skills that really seem to help me. This is why I want to share my findings with all of you. Maybe through sharing this information and the things I have learned, I or we can help someone else find their way through their darkness. As a result of some of the complications I have experienced and had to overcome, I now walk like I am wearing a large diaper. Not just a large diaper, but one that is full, if you get my meaning… This is because of a condition known as foot drop. It is neurological in nature and will not improve beyond the point that it is now. As a result of this condition, I now notice that people look at me weird because of the way I walk and maneuver, all the time. It hurts at times but that’s ok. My approach is to just make jokes about it and this seems to put them at ease. I can accept it, because there was a time when it was thought that I would never walk again. I can still see the look on my Doctor’s face when, during a follow up appointment, I told him I had recently been out snowshoeing with some friends. I can do it, you just watch me!!

I am all for giving to fellow beings that are in need and appreciate it. However, I have learned that one can easily give too much. Give to the point of complete depletion and there are some who will take all you are willing to give. They will take until there is nothing left but an empty shell of a person who has nothing left for their own care. There can sometimes be a fine line here and it can be hard to balance the act of giving to others and giving to yourself. I urge you to give to yourself first and foremost so that you feel whole, energized and are in good health before you look outward to those in need. You are Important! Your wants and needs are important! Be kind to yourself!!

In my lifetime, I have had the pleasure of knowing some of the most loving and caring beings on this earth. You know, the ones that just make you feel like nothing else matters in that moment except you and your feelings. My grandparents, my husband, a handful of really close friends, both human and animal, have done this for me. I am truly blessed to have had these experiences in my life and do my very best to return the same attention, love and kindness to them. Do any of you have these type of individuals in your life? Please show them your gratitude and let them know how important they are in your life! It will make a difference to them.

What I am desperately trying to do now is mend the part of my heart that can be fixed by helping others and staying true to who I am. My true self. I am still figuring that out but I’m getting there. I now know who I can turn to, in both the dark moments and the moments of great joy. It seems to me that knowing who you can share these times in your life with is a key factor in ones well being. Beware of recuring empty promises. Even if there were some great times with the abusive individuals in your life. Sometimes that’s what we do, we hold on to the good times, even if they were few and far between. We hold onto hope that the good times will become more frequent and things will improve. Hope is not reality, hope only lives in our minds. It is not a strategy and will not change fact. Remember the old saying, “a leopard does not change it spots”? If someone has repeatedly hurt you, regardless if it was mentally or physically, you must retreat to your safe and loving places and regroup. Regroup with those who lift you up. Those who will encourage and support you. Those who love and respect you for who and what you are. You are important! You matter!

Remembering and being realistic with my expectations is a key factor in what has helped me to survive. Develop a clear definition of what love is to you. Remember that time and life are precious and, for me, those who do not meet this criteria no longer have a place in my life. You have to have a safe place to share and be your true self.

These are some of the tools and techniques that have helped me. Maybe they could help you or someone you love.

With Love always,

Tanya Jean

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GROWING UP… Beautifully different by design,

At a very young age I could sense that I was different from everyone around me. I never felt understood. All of my immediate family thought they knew me, but they really never did. In fact, I still don’t feel that they really get me, to this day. I always kind of felt like, as the old saying goes, “a fish out of the water”.

I always preferred to play with my stuffed animals over dolls. In fact, I owned very few dolls but I had a collection of over 150 stuffed animals. I always felt comfortable when I was interacting with them. As a young girl, I would dress my stuffed animals up and have tea parties with them, rather than dolls.

In my heart, they were my family and friends. I talked to them. I took them for rides on my bike or in my wagon. As I made my bed in the morning, I would always arrange them in just the right way and in a very specific order on the bed. At night, I would alternate who got to sleep with me, as there were too many for all of us to be comfortable, you see. I did not want to leave anyone out, so this seemed like the best solution to me.

My stuffed animals gave me what I felt I didn’t have in my household. They gave me companionship and understanding. I looked after them in the way I wanted to be looked after. I loved them. I kept them clean, made sure that they were all comfortable and most of all, I made sure they were understood. I made up all kinds of stories about and with them. I took them on adventures. It was the family and friendship I longed for, and I found it in the safety of these little creatures. You know, like Tom Hanks and “Wilson” on that sandy, sunny beach. LOL

I did not have any friends that lived close by at a young age and my slightly older brother was not interested in playing with his unusual little sister. I felt that my parents were always very, very busy. They saw to it that I had the essentials to live but it seemed there was never time for anything extra for me.

Honestly, I believe that none of them understood me and maybe even thought that I was just a “problem child”. I think that’s what they called “different” back then. They certainly did not see me as being normal. Being an empath I could sense that. Though at the time, I didn’t know how or why I sensed these things. I just did…

I was a lonely child but my animal friends helped me to cope with that pain. Looking back now, I know that my family did not have the tools to recognize who and what I was. If they had, I believe my journey in life would have been much easier and happier. I used to spend hours with my stuffed animals. I would make sure they were comfortable while we were watching television or when they were watching me color in my books or even while I was doing my chores. I needed for them to know that their comfort was important to me. I needed them to know that I loved and appreciated them and that they were absolutely the most important things in my life. I needed them to know that they mattered to me! All of those things that I longed for, desperately….

I always spoke kindly to them and when the arguing in the house between my family members got loud, I would try to buffer the sound from their tiny little sensitive ears. After all, they were there for me when I was sad, or mad, or happy. I felt that I wanted to return the favor and be there for them. They were the family I had to create for myself, in order to survive. I believe that we are a species that needs companionship in some form and my stuffed animals were mine. At least until I got a little older and could start looking outside of the home I lived in.

I believe that I was born an empath and because I did not form a connection with the people in my household, I turned to animals. I really wish I had understood what was happening at the time and that my family had realized, or, at least, even seemed to care what was happening. Sometimes life gets busy. We’ve all heard people say that. I have said it myself, from time to time. However, I try not to say it anymore because it is no excuse. I urge you to make the time to try to understand the people in your life. Try to imagine, if you can, what things might look like from their perspective. Or, at least make an effort to let them know that they are seen. Just because we are not all the same, does not make us bad in some way. It is what makes life interesting and challenging. Being different is a blessing and should be treated as such.

The most intelligent, interesting and caring beings I know, are different. This is what I call BEAUTIFUL! Our creator did not want to make clones of everyone and have us all be exactly the same. Quite the opposite I think. Why then, I ask, do so many beings feel so lonely? I believe that most people have been taught to feel shame for being different… Is it because somewhere along the way, someone decided that being different was something to be feared? Could it be that beings or things that are different can be more difficult to understand? If so, I think that this is so wrong on so many levels. The shame is on those who cannot, or will not, embrace and celebrate being different and on those who criticize and ridicule.

My hope is that someday, those who fear, will try to understand and be kind to those they view as different! Here’s to a world where love and kindness is our collective first response to being different!

Go on then, Go and Be… Beautifully Different… by design!

Love always,

Tanya Jean,

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Silencing my Spirit

My belief is that we all, as humans, adapt to our surroundings. Some of us actually become different people depending on those surroundings and I am, without a doubt, one of those people.

After a great deal of research and therapy I fully understand why this happens to me. I am slowly learning how to be my true self around those I consider real people. This process is pain staking and harder than anything I have ever tried in my life. It is worse than trying to loose weight or quit smoking because these alters become a part of you. Its not just something you do. I would then, and will still, unconsciously call on any number of these alters, as needed. I will adjust to the situation or room I walk into before I reach the chair on the other side. This happens quickly and automatically now, if I feel uncomfortable in any way and they are different personalities depending on who is present or who I am interacting with. This is something that I learned to do and quickly perfected, instinctually as a very young child. It was a self preservation and protection mechanism my young mind and subconscious put into place long before I realized what it was or how it happened.

As a child I was repeatedly told that I was to be seen and not heard. It was law in our house that I was to be silent, especially around my father. His temper was explosive and we never knew what his mood would be like when he eventually walked through the door. The house had to be clean, food had to be prepared and I was to be silent. Militant order and cleanliness along with complete peace and quiet was what was necessary or there would be hell to pay!

I was a very active child and had a volume button that would go to ten in a heartbeat. I loved to sing and dance and act silly like most children do. I had to choose my times when I could be that child. You see in the house I grew up in, those slight window openings or safe opportunities, were very few and far between, for me at least. I desperately wanted to be seen. Be truly seen for who I was naturally. But, it seemed that being seen was something that only happened when I did not follow the rules. So, I learned how to silence my creative, silly side in order to be neither seen nor heard. It was my chance at not being punished or ridiculed.

Love was not given freely by my father. To him, it was something that had to be earned. My brother was the first born child and it seemed to me that this alone brought him the good fortune of being praised and paraded for all to see. “Look at our boy!” He was a good student who loved to play sports and of course was good at most of the sports he participated in. Now he still had to to work at keeping my fathers approval but at least he had a fighting chance.

I, on the other hand, had this misfortune of being the second born and a girl . The story my mother tells everyone, is that my father was too tired to come to the hospital to see me, when I was born. She has told this sad story of hers to whomever would listen, in front of me, my whole life and she sees nothing wrong with doing so. The ending, which is my favorite part, builds to how much this hurt her and how she cried through the night. Sometimes she will even squeeze out a tear or two for her listeners. How hard that must have been for her! For me, receiving any approval, for anything it seemed, was something that was going to be a challenge right form the start. Not to mention that the praise and parade train was all full up.

In my early years, being an empath, I always got the sense that my mother was glad I turned out to be a girl. This way she could dress me in all the frilly things she liked and of course there was another female in the house. That being said I was far from the typical little girl, of that time. I loved to get dirty and play outdoors. As you may be sensing by now, dolls were just not my thing. I was about animals and the outdoors all the way baby. I sensed my mother was a little disappointed that not only did she not get the girly girl that she wanted but that my father too was disappointed. Disappointed that I hadn’t turned out to be a boy. I got the sense that she wondered if it would have please my father more, if she would have had another boy the second time around.

My grades were not the best and I tried out for sports teams, like the boy, but they just weren’t my thing. I was a creative child. I loved to do crafts, draw, paint, sing and dance and just act silly. Oh and I really liked to get dirty. Jumping into mud puddles was a favorite pass time of mine. I loved to laugh and had a clear and hardy loud voice, which I used all the time. If someone would listen, I would talk for hours. I think it was the attention and interaction with someone who seemed interested in what I had to say that was the most appealing. This was not popular everywhere I went, however. I was told by both of my parents and my brother, that I was too loud and too silly, my whole life.

Needless to say I felt like I was the undesired child. I was good for doing household chores and keeping my mother company, especially as my father was always working. He was always wheeling and dealing as the old saying goes. As soon as my father came home, I was put to bed or sent off to do chores. I sensed that I made him uncomfortable at times, but mostly what I felt from him was anger. This in turn made my mother angry. Though I’m not sure I really understand why. So, I quickly realized that in order to keep the peace it was best for me to disappear when he was home. Which on the upside, for me at least, was a rare occasion.

As I grew I tried to find a way to communicate with him. I tried several of my different personalities just to see if we could somehow connect on any level. After all, what little girl doesn’t want to be “daddy’s little girl”, right? None of my alters worked. I eventually picked the one that seemed to annoy and anger him the least, if I had to be in his presence. After awhile I just did my best to avoid my father which was not hard because he was rarely around and really seemed to have no desire to be in my presence. When he was home it would always turn into something like a “WWE” wrestling and screaming match spectacle. Except it was not some rehearsed show meant to entertain. My mother would start at him just as soon as he walked through the door. Words and accusations would soon turn into yelling and screaming which would turn into yet another television thrown into or through the wall. I could never figure out why he always picked the television. I loved the television! Oh wait, did I just figure it out??

It would all end with someone or something getting hurt or broken. As the years passed and the fighting continued I got sick of it all and eventually started to take mom’s side. Afterall, she was at least present in my life. Really though, I was more frustrated than anything. I was tired of having to live surrounded by this, all the time. It just never stopped. I tried to be the daughter everyone wanted me to be. I tried to act the way they wanted me to act. I tried to talk the way they wanted me to talk. But it never changed. If I did this, then they would want that. They were just never happy. In the process of all of this, I noticed that the more I tried to please them the more unhappy I became. It started to become evident that the only thing I was accomplishing was to make myself as unhappy as them. In the end, all I did was hurt myself and near as I could tell, they already had that part covered. I had lost myself. I turned into some sort of stranger. Someone that I did not recognize when I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

I want to make it clear that I do not consider myself a victim. I am just a girl that had the misfortune of being born into a family who were the polar opposite of what she was born to be. I was born with an artists heart and little starting knowledge from that school of life. All that said, I am still here. I am still here and will say that I sure am educated on that school now.

I never did get to be “daddy’s little girl”, someone else got that role. I hope she enjoyed it. I now know that, that wasn’t suppose to be my path. I was meant for other things.

The practice of changing who or what I was in an attempt to suit the wants and needs of others is something that I continued on with for many years. I feel it is the result of the trauma imprinted on and within me during the years I spent in this environment and it did not serve me well. It made me very very sick! If you get the sense that someone close to you is doing just that, trying to adjust themselves to suit the wants and needs of others, please do not judge them. They probably don’t even realize what they are doing. They are obviously struggling and they need compassion not criticism. Please just try to encourage them to seek help.

As I sit here writing this, I’m thankful that I did not stay dead on that November day when I had my heart attack. My purpose has never been so clear. I needed to learn who I was and who I truly am at my core. I thought I wanted to live in someone else’s shadow, that is not the case at all. I needed to become my own person and I needed to learn who that is in order to live a life of purpose and meaning. I’ve discovered that is to be of service to those who need help in finding their true and authentic self. For me, the message here is that no one should be silenced. Your path is meant to be lived loud and free. Free of all judgement and that includes self judgement. There was nothing wrong with me, there was something wrong with the environment I grew up in. There was something wrong with the circumstances I lived within. There was nothing wrong with the little girl who could communicate with animals, sing, dance, create and had a hardy loud laugh. She was perfect in every way and I’m so excited to get to know her all over again!

I have the chance to live again and believe me when I say, I will not silence my spirit ever again!

With love as always,

Tanya Jean

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People die, but love does not

I once heard someone say that “people die but love does not”. My thought at the time was that those were some of the most truthful words ever spoken.

Love is the most powerful emotion there is. I believe that love is the most powerful emotion that people can choose to feel. It may even be that in some cases, its not a choice. It is, or can be, the most powerful force we have the pleasure to experience in our lives. I know, it sounds like some cheesy feel good movie title. But, the thing is though, I would not have survived my heart attack, without the power of love. Even as I was drifting away from this existence, I could feel the love that my husband and I had for each other pulling me back. Pulling me back from this peaceful, pain free and tranquil place I was drifting off too. I could feel his presence there beside my lifeless body, trying to find the words to say good bye. When it would seem that revival efforts lasting a little over 35 minutes would not be successful. Then, as the ER doctor calling the procedures asked for one last check for a pulse….

It must have been at this moment, that I remember thinking to myself, what was I doing, I can’t leave yet. Who would look after my loved ones? I can’t go to this place. I’m not ready to leave them on their own. Flashes of my husband and our animal family at the home we had built together kept running through my mind, with overwhelming force. They needed me! I needed them! So, love brought me back from this place where there was no pain. It was the most comfortable place that I had ever been. It was like I was resting on the softest, most comfortable bed that had ever been built. There was no pain or pressure on my body. My soul felt like I was home. I was finally where I belonged. But, my mind could not rest. Something or someone was telling me that I needed to go back. Back to my loved ones. Back to my home. There was a force pulling me back to my loved ones. There could not be complete and lasting bliss in this new existence yet if I was to stay. My time for that long peaceful sleep had not yet come.

Though it looked like I was dying, my Love was not…

With love always,

Tanya Jean

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My First Empath Feelings

I have always felt sensitive towards people, plants and especially animals. From a very early age my instincts were always to listen to my heart, and my heart always told me to be kind. Naturally, I wanted to treat others the way I really wanted to be treated. I believe that everyone, at their core, wants to be treated with kindly and with gentle and loving intentions, by those they share a life with.

My first family pet growing up was a dog named Candy. She was a gentle yellow lab mix that loved to eat. Candy would eat anything and everything. In particular, she had a real taste for the baseboards in our home. On one occassion, she ate an entire pin cushion that was full of pins. It is truly amazing that she lived to the age of sixteen. Candy was my first friend and I loved her so. Her and I basically grew up together because she was just a puppy when I was born. Our connection was strong, and to me, at the time, it was because we had just always been together. I am very thankful for the friendship that we had in my early childhood years and today understand that there was much more to the dept of our connection than I realized back then.

My grandparents, on my mothers side, were very loving and gentle people with whom I spent a great deal of time while I was growing up. They always had dogs and a deep appreciation and respect for nature. They loved to feed the wildbirds, chipmunks and the odd squirrel that would show up with their young. In addition of course, they would also feed the odd human straggler that came along for a visit and a lunch. As I saw and shared in this mindset, I too embraced this approach of being helpful and kind to those in need. It seemed natural to me and I liked the way the world looked through those lens. It made me feel good, and at that time in my life, I was drawn to all the good feelings I could get.

My grandfather was a big kid and I loved his youthful antics. He was always joking and teasing. Especially when he could get a really good laugh. He loved to make himself and others laugh that hardy laugh that comes right from the belly. We would laugh until it hurt. It was so much fun and felt so good. I admired his love and respect for the woods and everything in nature really. It was plain to see, for anyone who knew my grandfather, that being in and surrounded by nature is where he belonged.

As a child, I spent a great deal of time with both of my grandparents at their camp in beautiful Albert County, New Brunswick. This would eventually become the location for their home in later years when they retired. It’s a place that still feels like home to me. A beautiful country home filled with warmth and positive energy, carved into the hillside, looking down on the winding brook, leading to the pond below. If I close my eyes and quiet my mind for just a moment, I can still hear the wildbirds singing and the sound of the babbling water flowing into the pond. It was my favourite place in the world. Alot of the time, I could be found in the kitchen with grammy. I would be helping with the preparing of meals, baking bread or making preserves.You see, Grampy had a huge appetite and loved to eat well. Her kitchen was well known in the community and they would frequently have folks popping in for a visit. She always made sure she had some tasty treats to offer when visitors would come calling. Believe me when I say TASTY! She was the best cook I have ever known! I think that might have been a big part of the allure for the nearby neighbours and visitors. Even the dogs would line up, in hopes of retrieving a tiny morcel or scrap from the floor or maybe even having something thrown to them by Grampy, when Grammy wasn’t looking of course. They had to wait on the outskirts of the kitchen though, she would not allow any unnecessary traffic in her kitchen, and no one questioned Grammy. I can remember hearing Grampy refer to her as the “Warden” a time or two, in a most loving way of course, and only from a distance. When there was absolutely no danger of her hearing him. LOL. At other times, I would be out in the shop or in the yard helping Grampy with one of his many, many projects. He was a brilliant man and could build or fix anything! I just loved spending time with both of them! They always made me feel so special and like my suggestions and opinions were important and mattered.

The camp, for me, was a magical place. We were surrounded by nature and wildlife. Grampy would have wild birds land right on the top of his hat. While he was wearing it! I think it was because they knew he was no threat. I was completely in awww of his connection to them. He had even tamed a squirrel. Or, so I thought at the time. However, looking back now I realize that he had an ability to comminicate with these beautiful creatures. Without me realizing it at the time, Grampy passed his gift on to me. It was the gift of being an animal empath. Grampy showed me how to quietly observe, communicate with and earn the trust of a chipmunk. We got to a point, this chipmunk and I, where he would eat right out of my hand. I was about six years old at the time. Well, I thought it was a “he”. So, I called my new friend Henry! Then, one day Henry showed up with her young ones and from that point on, Henry would be known as Henrietta. LOL

I did not know that I was an animal empath at the time, or that there was even such a thing. Or that others could possess the same or similar gifts. I believe that it was this time spent with my grandfather that helped me to realized how special my connection with animals could be. A bit later on in life, I felt a calling to work with animals and trained to become a pet groomer. It was a profession I worked in happily, for twenty five years. There was a period of time, after my heart attack, when there was very little I could do physically other than feed and attend to our pets and the wildlife at our home. This gave me such joy and a feeling of purpose. Not to mention that it was very good therapy for me at the time. Both physical and mental, I believe. It was a time when I felt I had very little. I had lost a great deal of my independance and felt very low.

Now, after all these years and some most challenging times, I still live here in the country, surrounded by nature. Right where I belong, just like my Grampy. Quietly observing, communicating with and earning the trust of the wildlife around me. I am forever grateful for my many blessings and animal companions. Thank you very much for the lessons you taught and the example set for me Grampy! You will be forever loved and missed!

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Welcome to my story

So here’s a little about me and why I’ve decided to do this.

The picture you see above is of my girl Jam and I approximately 10 months or so after coming home from several months spent in hospital.

I have always been an animal person. I have always felt a connection and found comfort in the presence of animals. Though it wasn’t until recently, after doing a great deal of research, that I started to understand what this gift of mine really was. It was like I could hear them and understand how they felt or what they were trying to communicate. It was with this in mind, some twenty-five years ago, when another “just for now job” fell through, that I decided to become a pet groomer. A perfect fit I thought. I would get to work with animals all day, everyday. What could be better for someone like me? I so loved working with the animals. Until one day, completely out of nowhere, I had a massive heart attack. It was the type of cardiac event commonly referred to as the “Widow maker”. I had a 100% blockage and was in full cardiac arrest for approximately 35 minutes. I was forty-eight years old, at the time.

We were told by my medical team that less than 5% of individuals who experience an event such as mine survive. Add to that the “arm’s length” list of complications that I had to overcome and it is truly a miracle that I am still here. It’s a miracle that I am here and able to share my story with you. It is in writing this blog and the book I am currently working on that I find strength, comfort, healing and purpose. It has helped me to not feel so alone…

I thought my world was complicated before, and it was. However, it is amazing how an experience such as the one I am living, can change one’s perspective in such a powerful way. It certainly gave “complicated” a whole new meaning for me. This “arm’s length” list of mine has opened up a whole new world for me. A world that I’m sooo looking forward to sharing with you.

Its been one hell of a journey… A journey I hope you will find interesting and enjoy following.

Maybe it will become something you would want to share with someone close to you. Or maybe, someone you know who is experiencing challenges and difficult times in their life or with their health. It is my hope that through sharing my experiences, we can help those who are struggling in their own life situation. Maybe they too will come to see that they are not alone and that there is always hope… even in the darkest of times.

With love,

Tanya Jean