Friday, 7 January 2022

My Lesson in Healing and a Needed Personal Course Correction

I stumbled upon a fantastic phrase the other week, the phrase hit me like it was the very last phrase in a really great book. This phrase I heard was meaningful and it made me think.

In my spare time, because why not look up a phrase that many may be using, so that I can use this term and know what people are talking about if brought up in conversations? 

To me words and phrases are meaningful.  This PHRASE was like the sweet taste of honey when it first touches your lips. 


Being a children´s writer, blogger and poet, the phrase was a needed remidie to sweeten my sour taste buds the last couple of years. 

I was going through a very hard separation. Being a writer, though- I could never fathom the idea to ever pick up my computer and keyboard to write about such travesties. 


The healing rescues and remedies that I administered and that I took on in my every day helped.

My healing had to come first, and although writing has always been my guiding light to heal minutely from any of lifes' blunders, I lost my ability to pick up a pen or paper, with no great ideas to shed light on or draw from, I thought my writing career was over, until I came across a fantastic phrase to set the tone and lead me to write and dream again.


There's many stages of healing I suppose. This is what the first part of my healing looked like, I'll call it stage one.   

I am pretty sure that the past couple of years collectively, ln lockdown has somehow offered perhaps more then a few of us, a tranquil and safe place to heal if need be. 

The phrase which I heard that made everything from my past make perfect sense was "Course Correction" 

Though, without my normal outlet of when I use to  pound away  somewhat harshly on a keyboard,  writing for me; which was my personal means to maintain my sanity.  

My recent hard times felt as though as I was at a complete loss. With no energy to even face a keyboard, let alone garble up some words and sentences that would make any sense. My last article that I recall writing may have been in April of 2020, maybe a small article in 2021. When I use to be able to write 6 to 8 articles per Mos. This was rather upsetting me. My keyboard became my apponent. And until the day came, until I could thrash some words together, my healing had to be instilled completely before this. Every day and always I would inch my way closer to this. 

As I found this one phrase just weeks ago, my means of healing was on par with my feeling of wanting wholeness. Sure I may as well sugar coat my separation, the phrase Course correction, would do the sugar coating quite sweetly.  My keyboard and me would now be reunited again for a rematch, my writing would prevail, I would win the match still recovering from my past experiences, though somehow phase one in healing worked. 

In 202O-2021 then only able to write two or three paragraphs, feeling like an idiot, I would quickly dismiss my writing, my thoughts and my ideas as trash. That is where these attempts of writing would end up. 

I CONSIDERED it just round 1! I still had 15 rounds to go,  I wouldn't give up. Though i was terribly exhausted from a very harsh break up.

If you haven't experienced  writer's block it's real. And honestly it sucks!

I had a life to live and a boy to teach, to also live a good life. There was no way I could lose. Through time and space I grew stronger. Writers block I hoped would disappear so I could feel myself again. With hope I edged forward slightly in healing more and more everyday.


I can only describe writers block, by saying "it may feel something like to have something on the tip of your tongue to spill out, but then something gags you, possibly looking for the words and not being able to think, nor speak of it."



My Course Correction, landed me in a place of complete exhaustion, where I could barely get out of bed, if I did get up -which I often had to while tending to my son, I would become more exhausted...
I had good and bad days. 

I was running on empty! With saying that, the man from my past was not solely to blame for our separation, of what came before it or of what proceeded it. For each of us not gaining a positive equilibrium throughout the years, was nobody's fault! We both failed equally without being able to see how to put our partnership back together. We both were to blame as they say. 


I took a personal oath many years ago with my first kids book that I wrote. 

I swore I would never write harshly about such personal sufferings, even if I looked for positive resolutions to patch our family together in love and harmony at every corner. While looking for ways to dissolve this torture. I made a promise to myself. 

If I did write about such travesties of nature they would only be formulated in hopes to aim to heal, to learn, to accept and to grow from. While kids grow, my reason for exposing in my taste of writing style; for kids of our future, writing for them has to reflect this. 

I promised I would try to write to encourage peace, joy, happiness, and positivity. Dwelling in my writing style could only stifle.  I put my writing on hold while I took space to heal and find strength again. 
 
I have learned many things throughout the past couple of years, as we have all sacrificed a great deal to create a world where we are all safe at home, my victory though, even through many days being physically exhausted, was coming out the other side of my separation, with my energy up, my smile perhaps even brightened and my heart open; even my laugh which I missed so much returned. 

My healing journey lead to a course correction that was needed, necessary, through many days I meditaded, gaining strength each day, gaining a peaceful feeling that at first was completely foreign to me. 

Not knowing what healing felt like, or much about what self love felt like or what peace felt like? I soaked and devoured the onset of these novelty feelings for the first time. It was all so refreshing, so new and I welcomed that and my son into my little bubble of calm and serenity.


Overtime I learned how to heal, I learned the importance of it, as if you are healing and training a new puppy to walk beside you, you pull back, stop and pause then carry on to heal again and possibly again. Like a puppy learns after some time to walk beside his favourite companion, I knew too, that I could and would walk again.


After many months turning to years of becoming inflicted with this exhaustian, not just tired, no exhaustian is different.  The state I found myself in, I was afraid, I would never find the energy I needed.  Pulling back the reins, I knew that I had to find ways to fill my own cup and not worry about the expectations of others.


I could not hardly speak, walk, even eating would be difficult  at times. Some cereal, a donut, just what I could manage to make and eat without much effort or strength was all I could attempt. I
f I were to call a friend, or if a friend would call me to talk, I had not even the breath to speak. I became winded quickly, and would have to cut our conversations short. To say hello, to say yes- I am still healing and managing was all we could speak. I would hope for my energy to return for another day. 

Phase one, was to find out what healing methods work for me? . During the mornings I included guided meditations. I listened to healing meditations about the past, or letting go, possibly self love meditations if I was feeling extra lively that day. Getting rest and Sleep if I could was also a big part of phase one. I had to try to lay down, this sometimes was a chore! Since insomnia set in the year prior, I had to reclaim my bed and pillows, put my head down to rest, with that over time I noticed I started dreaming again. I would add chakra healing music throughout the night-time for insomnia, my son heard these echos coming from my room, we restored our new sense of peace; together. 






I noticed myself talking on the phone to my friends longer, I could speak more, and move around with more ease. I chose to be gentile on myself, to allow myself to heal, what this encompassed was daily rituals; Where each day finding a new source to fill my cup with was actually becoming fun.


 
I nurtured myself with at home spa days, adding a face mask and a hair treatment, drinking water, trying to eat well,  sleeping became easier. Somehow throughout the years I forgot that sleep and rest is and always will be considered the #1 basic necessities in terms of human survival.  You can quote my therapist for that, where through phone calls my therapist would ask "how I was taking care of my health at home?" As most of us were the past couple of years. 

My personal "course correction," left me craved and starved for protection, attention and self love. 

Phase two of my healing journey was much better then phase one. I said goodbye to the days where I would wake up in a
fright due to the onset of  trauma that my past soured me with. 

Phase two added more peace, I held on to that peaceful feeling for as long as I could. As the demands of life would return as they always do.  Even though still lethargic- I found myself grasping for the moments where I felt peaceful, this would grow stronger, I was learning to develop a strong peaceful core, that zapped my exhastion with each calm breath.  

I learned that healing is a practice, and adding crystal healing to my days, became a great source for nurturing. I gathered my ten or twelve healing stones and slept with them, I clenched them some nights, trying to feel serene as I curled up in a ball, literally practicing many ways to heal. 

Some days though, would be heavier then others. I learned also that these days, could come on strong and swift, without any given notice. I would need to be ready for them, as we were battling  in court, I needed my courage and strength to endure this.   

During the second phase I noticed what healing methods worked for me. Third phase was filled with so many ways to encourage myself with growth and balance. Healing from a past course correction meant saving my own life!

With my body I had to feed it; with my heart; allow it to open, with my mind; I had to be clear; with my body I had to rest.

Phase three, was all about living again, doing things I loved, getting back to work was my aim, incorporating dance fitness and excersising,  singing, and even though I threw out much of my writing, I knew my earnestness to write again was just around the bend. 

I was almost there... round 15! 


If the third phase had a name it would be called, SAYING GOODBYE!

Saying good bye to people and the man from the past yes, that was clearly essential for my well being. That being said, saying goodbye to an older version of me is also a practice of a well known term called letting go... 

Phase three is where I sit today, saying good bye to the past I realize now, (even blindly so,) that I thought I needed to endure abusive relationships, letting go of this ridiculous and absurd notion is a big part of phase three in my course correction.  

The person I am today is stronger, perhaps wiser and with this article  driven again to write with my passion.  A self love victory with cups filled with love for myself, to give to my son with a new life restored.   

Allowing peace to grow was my foresight and  forecast into where I wanted to be.  

At least for today, I am back where I found myself, years ago when I created my first kids book. Today I am not only able to speak again to friends and family, help my son with online schooling, I am creating again. I think my personal course correction was a total knock out, round 15 over.  

Expressing my journey now, I am not rattled nor collapsing due to exhastian. 

When a ballerina dancer has to hang up their dance shoes for the last time, it is a sad day.  I never knew if I could find it in me to write again.  I feel good writing today, today is not a sad day. 

My manifestations of a peaceful home came to me through healing.  

Loving again became easy, it is overflowing from the filled cups filled in our tranquil peaceful bubble. 

If given a choice, of whether to leave an unhappy situation, I would choose to love  myself again, over and over. 

When I met the phrase "COURSE CORRECTION", it conjured up enough passion, emotions, thoughts and ideas; that with this one phrase, it help me turn my own page, to offer me more self love, and a reason to let go.
Where as much as word choices for a writer matters for good writing, when even the words we say when we are speaking to each other matters, offering each other kind words also matter. 

In a world where being kind has been something to value, much more greatly then ever before. 

Each of us creating a world of peace, can be accomplished with each kind word. 

With out offering these kind words and gestures, encouraging others with kindness; I feel that as a collective and globally, that we could not ever survive.


Today I am an energetic mom home schooling presently,  and as we find ourselves today....back at square one and ground zero in our efforts to stay safe. 

In my nerdy sense of being a bit of a techy-nerd; finding the joy in looking up the phrase "Course Correction"  within  an urban dictionary, while I relished in  finding out what the heck a Course Correction could mean on a personal level? It was a needed element in the closing of phase three in healing and a "Eureka" moment for me to draw a bit of voltage to write again. 

A phrase that makes sense, while in proper writers fashion we are not here to slam someone or anyone in any way.  I only want to write to possibly provoke thought, to offer meaning, to somehow, even  slowly to help connect us with purpose, that allows peace with mindful word choices only said with an open heart, then reflected back nurturing and kind. No matter where we are in the world, kindness offers survival. 



Tamara Thompson
Childrens Author/Poet/Blogger/Motivational Speaker
Social Media Coach FB @i. Blog Your Business

Thursday, 15 October 2020

Smiles Abound with a Seesaw App.

Smiles Abound, With a SeeSaw App.




I absolutely love this new SeeSaw app teachers are using in schools. It's amazing getting notes and pics and things, randomly sent to me- while Logan's off at school, in his own big world. 

In the 70s, 80s, and 90s, there was NO SIDE HUSTLE...Not for Gen X no way. Sometimes we feel like a middle child between The Baby Boomers and The Millenials.  Definitely, if it was not for all of the existential hard-working Boomers, so hard working during hard and dark times. Things were drastically different back then without technology.

A picture sent to an inbox in these two eras would seem unheard of, though, still a thoughtful approach to bridging community and involvement, while lessoning any gaps. 



I remember foremost we had big steel signs that would show in windows as "A neighborhood watch program" that was in full effect, and the neighborhoods, the people, in these areas in Ontario were rich with community standards, involvement, and care.

If taking student or classroom pictures were on a faculty list at any school, this is what it would look like;
 
Here we go now, centering back to the 80s; a fun colourful time with not much to really be seen on the news, in my area of the home.

We would be taking a picture using a Polaroid, wait it out a few seconds, while this seemed to last forever.  The picture would then shoot out from the Polaroid, no one would dare touch it for at least 6 to 10 minutes, or then the picture would be ruined FOREVER!!!!! Yes forever! This sometimes would be considered nowadays a glitch.




More pictures would be taken, not just one. Possibly the parents or groups would be shouting in hypo-glee mode, "take the picture" while tons of polaroids could be then shot out from a slim opening, not like anything seen today. Perhaps, like a FLASH of lightning, A polaroid mess-crashes, gathering and landing on the floor, and then not to smear these action shots, of our precious family photos. 

No one really knowing for sure how to take a picture with a steady hand while in focus. With kids, friends, families, all not very used to such a display of cherished moments in reflection, while keeping memories alive. Crowds of friends, families, workmates, and extended families would be gathered together weekly.  How to work this Polaroid contraption, where some adults with mechanical knowledge and background would be put in charge of the polaroid.  Snapping pictures wildly, before the big heavy camera is out of thick greasy paper.  Which was not accessible in many areas of shops and then to just cast our memories instead of being together, many of us, all the time, remembered these moments anyway.

If the pictures turned out, dried, someone in charge of acting director "saying that's enough, don't waste the ink"  Everyone in the room the same room mind you; could all have a look-see, all giddy-like in the cheer about a fantastic picture taking moment and amazing new use of a new contraption.

Some would shake the picture in hand, -a 5 x 7 or 4 x 6 floppy piece.  If teachers were to include this in their daily classroom activities, wanting to send a picture to a mom, dad, or parental figure...well this has become quite the little hustle now hasn't it?




If this area of manufacturing was established back then, after the final polaroid was taken, teachers would be heading down to their school offices, gathering parents' work or home locations in a scurry, taking notes with a pen and a piece of paper, scribbling addresses with postal codes, clipboards and all, making not one mistake in the parent's location to bring over to grateful families.

One by one and two by two, the teachers seated in cars with hefty seat belts, now driving en route to parent locals. In their hands first, would be a real live paper map, unfolding it was like having spaghetti thrown. Without the use of a GPS or handy google map, or any such mobile cell phones.

Mainly all we had with us, was but a hope and a prayer and each other. We all came from an era filled to the rim, with hustle! The sometimes heated debate about "Is this even in the right place." Would occur, while searching for said parents.

"Yes it's the right local...trust me!!!! As heads turned from side to side trying to catch an address that matches exactly what's on the buildings and what was written down back at the office.

The teachers would have needed to walk up staircases, confused, bewildered, tired; perhaps a tad panicky or panting, or both. Delivering these fine polaroids would be a task given in the same thoughtful form.



 
"They open the door to an unfamiliar workspace, in a location unknown, the teacher would then have the polaroid picture, making sure to be gentle with it, maybe in a folder? In the politest tone, they would say to a present stranger -standing at the front office.

The teacher then asks, "If by chance there happens to be a parent of a certain child from a certain school who may work here?"

 "Yes, I am her."

Oh, here is a picture of your child from school today, we wanted to give this polaroid to you as a precious gift. It's your child and playing and learning today."

You see when I was in school I could break both limbs -Teaching staff in a complete frenzy of commotion, though all fulfilling their duties and responsibilities.

Even though the technology of today is used in many ways, far surpassing mere saving on recycling to lesson garbage fills.  That the power of it is strong for a beautiful means to communications and a picture worth a thousand words, just as it was intended even in history.



Computers were thought of, developed, and then experienced and utilized by Nasa, or so I heard about this from one of my favorite teachers Mrs. Quinton.  By the way, there wasn't any branding in full force by any means. Except perhaps by teachers and maybe even Nasa. Then for the common folk, computers only used at first for a reduction in paper accumulation.  This never really became such a great recycling program at once first thought. Years did surpass while finally recycling paper along with polaroids fell to the wayside, used once in a high waist fashion for school or work, then came times of the Millennium.  Still pens, crayons, markers, and pencils, never did seize.  


"Paper is still for sale at department stores, where essential workers gather.  Gifts are accepted much faster and given with such ease and this handy SeeSaw app, where this article is now a seemingly all over the map, with my See-Saw approach to article writing."


While printers were the fashionable thing for some time, prior.  Though with diligence in technology and growth, I think we finally got to a place where not only recycling has been established, where there is certainly more than enough technology for anyone's fundamental uses.  




Finally, out with the polaroid paper garbage-filled dumps, we're given the gift to see our kids while on the schoolyard, during a harsh time in 2020. Though without such a radical hustle, but for the pure enjoyment of connectivity, watching our kids and youth in the community grow together with many smiles abound, being safe, given a picture with kindness, a new world with inspiring sentimental luxury.

Possibly we could be a bit spoiled with technology and how some choose to use it, this App though is something highly and most intelligently different.

"That's how I feel about life at this moment, as I am just really telling a story about being a mom in 2020, with so much to hope for my child, our communities to grow in strength, with happy times, friends for him, without so much struggle, with a vibrant look on life.  Even though the environmental circumstances are confusing. Seeing these smiles, a gesture in pureness, through SEESAW App, while I'm just learning what an app was myself not too long ago.  As I usually and personally don't always trust many apps, just as I won't want my son to watch too much television or with too much game time. Willingly from the school boards, there it is a picture while I am not taking it, it is with my child in it.  Yes..even with one smile, I know he's happy in his world, a new world for him somehow threefold, but a mom comforted by this."




"Where, now, through my writing in sometimes such random, nonrelated ways, only to hope to encourage in private times to see many years of growth, for the community, with smiles, while writing exploratively with my many unnecessary theories. Thought though, just for kindness and encouragement."






Friday, 27 March 2020

My Journey With Britney Spears, A Mental Health Story

Pop Princess Britney Spears, her rise to the top and the mental illness
her and I both share, Bipolar.
Her Struggles, her pain, I knew all too well.
So I advocated for her, even though she would never know, that
I became her cheerleader.


When I came across this picture, my heart ached once again.
I remembered where I came from, I remembered my story,
I remembered that I fought so hard, The battle seemed long
and unbearable at the time, but I won!


I beat Bipolar hands down, instead of beating myself up for
enduring this, I think now...and remember that,
So I write, I write and I write like I am doing tonight
until my words cause me to feel brave again and in doing so
I am able to heal me again.



When Robin Williams left us, it tore a big hole
in my heart. For the laughter, he gave us, while he
was hiding his mental illness and his struggle. He
was making people laugh, though, with me, he
made me feel a sense of identity when I shared
his illness as well, I became stronger because
he shared his story. Sadly, it took his life,
where this shadow, will always be remembered
through honouring him and his deep legacy of laughter

As someone who has Bipolar, who has fought this illness, 
who has seen the depths of what this illness can do, the harm
it can inflict in the lives of the people who deal with it.
It is people like this, celebrities, like Robin William, Brittany Spears and so many others who have come forward to talk about this rather awkward, debilitating, painful and crucifying illness.


In no way am I trying to not being sensitive about COVID-19,
to the world around us, the despair the planet is facing everywhere right now and for the suffering and the sad situations that this virus has caused.

I came across this very famous picture that you see, of the "princess of pop Brittany Spears." When this came out in the
early Millenium, I had already healed from the wrecks of bipolar, though I followed her story, it gave me more hope to keep fighting, I felt like I was fighting alongside her,
with her. The battles she faced, though hers being wildly public, knowing everyone was speaking of her peculiar and random behaviour.
Deep down I knew exactly what this beautiful person, this iconic figure was going through and I felt close to someone I had never even known.  I wasn't a big fan from her era, I am about ten years her senior-and when I went through the hard times with facing Bipolar I was about five years healthy and well, without an episode to speak of, I had my own business, I was doing very good for myself... then I saw what she faced, head-on in the tabloids and I knew precisely what she was going through. It was everything I had already gone through, I knew her pain, almost like it was my own.

In my day to day life, I chose to and was able to speak about this, through Britney's story for the first time...I became stronger and a big cheerleader of hers, even though she would never know.


Her fight became my fight all over again, against the many
people that I would come into contact with who would nitpick and say hurtful things about her, if they said that about her, then that was what they were saying about me and others.

It hurt just hearing what people thought about her and about her painful struggle with mental illness. The stereotype was apparent, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. I thought, well...I have to say something...they are saying all these bashing things about people with mental illness, they are talking about me and many people I know... That was the time I finally got to utilize something so powerful, a tool we all have, I got to finally use the strength of my voice. 


I was an esthetician, with my own esthetics business, years ago, I would sit in front people putting on professional make up for them,  or giving them a facial while I went about
pampering them, more times than not the mood would strike up then, a conversation about Britney Spear's story.  This happened more times then I could count. I remember hearing how awful she was, the horrid things she was doing, how ridiculous she was behaving. What did I do when I heard someone speak ill of her? I decided right then and there as I sat at my esthetics tables to, DISPEL ALL OF THAT WAS BEING SAID about her!  I was able to speak to people who would bash her, gossip about her, say petty comments, I was able to STAND UP for someone I would never know..but somehow, along the way our stories collided.

Only because her break down, was my break down, her turmoil was my turmoil and I grew my voice speaking up for her while rooting for her seemed to be more of my job than working on someone's nails ever became. I dived right in to highlight how much she was enduring... Causing a fray of empathy for her anywhere I could. It came out later that she did suffer from the very same illness that I also suffered from just years apart. That was when I knew to share more about these illnesses that are so invisible, so painful and seemingly being so private. It became apparent to rise above my own shyness that it meant something to have this illness, the struggle meant something and when sharing over and over, in my writing or day today, I was able to feel a sense of healing I never had the privilege of feeling before. 



Maybe it's the reason I am sharing this tonight on this blog? Maybe somewhere, someone is also needing a cheerleader? 
There is great strength and power in the words we speak
every day, the things we think about become real. Who we cheer for, who we root for, the words become things, the things we say, to ourselves or out loud, it resonates as real. 

Sharing releases the shame, the pain, the burdens of facing these battles alone.  "Without anyone knowing about the things we are suffering from is NOT the way to go!" 
I am very adamant now that I share my story, whenever and where ever possible. It has brought me great pleasure and many blessings in my life. It has always been my best power tool, my shield and my guard; Hearing other people share their stories, has helped me, offering their voice instead of my own, because, at the time, I was too weak.


When I couldn't fight let alone stand up for my own story and my own self-worth, when I needed it most, the times I was too shy to speak about the pain I was enduring.. their stories

shined a light, showing me the way. Over time I became very free with my words about mental illness and what I faced. Somehow this saved my life. The struggle was and sometimes still is quite real... the words that I speak, the words I write seem to dispel all of that!  When I first heard about her story, my advocacy against mental illness along with the stereotypes and the stigmas, we have been burdened with; began!

-Today, the strength I have gained from winning in this battle of beating bipolar, the compassion I feel every day for humankind, the gratitude I have for being able to live each day to the fullest like it was my last! Not a day goes by without me saying thank you to the universe, for health, and wellness being on my side  - first and foremost. I learned to be good to myself and others. "With all of the scars, all of the embarrassment, the ridicule, the gossip we face, the things we hear people say, It's not an easy task to handle and to regain health and wellness in spite of this, though it can be done!"



Mental illness can be completely debilitating and crucifying in the sense that many who don't understand or accept,
those who may not rally with us or cheer for us. It's NOT something to be mocked, or ridiculed, or gossiped about.  This is a real illness and not all survive, unfortunately, sometimes the pain takes over, very sadly so!  
I had no idea I would be sharing this small part of my journey through Bipolar, though...Maybe tonight somewhere, someone may have needed a light shining on them. Just as I watched Britney Spears struggle, knowing that there was someone out there, who shared the same burdens, was enough as I clapped cheerfully for she turned around and headed for recovery.

Using our words that are gentle and healing, tender and loving, accepting and kind... Being good to our planet, to our

environment, to our friends and family, to our neighbours, to the employees that we can't do without.  Where employers need to know that;  EMPLOYEES ARE REALLY NOT SO IRREPLACEABLE as once was thought. Where having a team full of happy front line workers is a must, it is necessary for businesses to thrive, that employees should not be thought of as a number, just a person to help reach a quota for the duration.  That these employees should be respected, valued, cared for and helped all the time, not just in a world crisis and a pandemic!


Knowing just like the COVID-19 "That This Too Shall Pass"
The lessons learned will be of value for mankind and all humanity and in the many communities, we come from.
In no way do I want to overstep on anyone who is suffering
from the anguish of COVID-19, who is in pain, or deeply burdened, my heart goes out to all who are feeling deep sorrow.



Saying I AM WELL, speaking the words I AM HEALTHY, the healing that comes with these words create a mindset in the beliefs we hold, that no one can ever break or tare down.
"Knowing that you may or may not read this in your social media today, tomorrow or the next day, maybe you won't ever but maybe someone will, maybe it's just the cheer that they needed."  Like I said I had no idea, that I would be up late tonight writing in a blog post. Struck by this one image that I happened to come across on my Instagram Account, though she certainly is brave and she most certainly became victorious in her battle with bipolar, as did I, as can you. 

Knowing that words are power, well....it's great to share.
Sharing tends to strengthen and restore a deep power within.
I think that is what COVID-19 is showing me and perhaps many of us, that sadly tomorrow is not promised. For today, be kind to one another,  with our words that we speak, that is where our true power lies. Knowing that our earth and everything around us can heal if we stand together, not alone!






Tamara Thompson
Author of Children' Books
Before You Were Born
Happy Birthday Jack
Poems of a Codependant
I Dream In Poetry &
The Forwards
"Mental Health books for
Children and Families.
www.amazon.ca
Blogger from The Healthy Way
i. Blog Your Business
Mommy Misses Me
& Jay Mann's The Brush Stroke

i. Blog Your Business, blog stories for the
spirited and passionate entrepreneurs,
social media coaching, assisting through
promotional advertising.


Tamara Thompson, mental health advocate,
mental health children's book author & poet.
Email @ butterflybee888@gmail.com
705-333-9723


FB@ i. Blog Your Business 

https://www.facebook.com/iblogyourbusiness
TWITTER https://twitter.com/thompsonwriter8
WEB https://butterflybee888.wixsite.com/iblogyourbusiness








AMAZON BOOK ORDERS WWW.AMAZON.CA


THE FORWARDS: 

https://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/1688300198?pf_rd_r=YQR0H926NDRXXSAMMQV9&pf_rd_p=05326fd5-c43e-4948-99b1-a65b129fdd73

I DREAM IN POETRY:

https://www.amazon.ca/I-Dream-Poetry-Tamara-Thompson/dp/1797482904/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=i+dream+in+poetry+tamara+thompson&qid=1585349754&s=books&sr=1-1