Low Tide Season

Being open and vulnerable can heal both ourselves and those around us. 

Brené Brown wisely states, “We cannot selectively numb emotions, when we numb the painful emotions, we also numb the positive emotions.”

A few years ago, I was diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD)—a silent struggle that many people face as the days grow shorter and the changing seasons bring waves of gloominess. 

I often wondered why, as autumn’s stunning array of colors faded and the trees released their withered leaves, I felt like one of those falling leaves—desperate to regain my vibrant colors and reconnect with the beauty I had once experienced. 

I'd tell myself to “snap out of it,” dismissing my feelings as just another “bad day” or a case of the “winter blahs.” Yet the discarded leaf of my emotions would land in an ocean of despair, tattered and broken, as the tide pulled me out to sea and submerged me into a low tide season.

In nature, we cannot help but be inspired by how the low tide unveils the hidden beauty of the ocean floor and the breathtaking, expansive beaches. 

However, during an internal period of low tide, many of us may identify with the ocean's creatures stranded out of the water—some trapped in pools, others hiding under the shade of kelp draped over rocks, or buried in the sand, laying low until the tide rises and sets them free again.

While our low tide seasons vary, we can all relate to our struggles in life's ocean as we strive to return to brighter days and calmer waters. 

Nothing brightens my soul more than being in nature. Even as a child growing up in Newfoundland, the outdoors—especially the ocean—was my playground, a treasure I took for granted. Some of my fondest memories involve carefree moments spent with my siblings. We were always together, swimming in the salty waves, building rafts to venture out and explore the shoreline, or skating on its icy sheet. 

Although I'm no longer that carefree child, it's no wonder the sea has drawn me back. My life here in New Brunswick for the last five years feels like a full-circle moment. Yet, as an adult, I view the ocean in a different light. I’m attuned to the rhythm of its surroundings and aware of its constant motion: the sea is timeless; it’s the same ancient water, whether angry or calm, rising or falling.

Similarly, the internal workings of our minds and bodies are also in constant motion. A storm that rages and crashes against our inner shoreline can alter its landscape. We navigate through the tides of change, experience highs and lows, endure rough seas, and anticipate the storms' passing. Despite this, though, we remain the same unique body.

So how do we maintain balance in an ocean that seems intent on tipping us over and damaging the shoreline of our emotions?

The answer lies within each individual, of course.

Learning to stay connected to my emotions instead of ignoring them was a significant step. 

Another significant step was seeking ways to bring more light into my life through physical and mental engagement. 

More importantly, no matter how dire my situation or how rough my waters are, the buoy of Christ is always present for me to hold onto.

I’ll admit that this is a challenging time in our country's history. Many of us feel like we're being swept out to sea by the tides of political change and uncertainty. Anxiety and strong emotions are washing over us as we try to understand why our neighbors' leaders have turned against us. 

But I’m inspired by the resilience Canadian history teaches us: "God keep our land glorious and free." Ultimately, God controls the outcome, and we must not lose faith in Him.

As we enter spring, the season of new life, may we drown out the noise of negativity and embrace the beauty of renewal. 

Blessings! 

The Comparison Trap

Nothing disrupts joy and contentment faster than comparing ourselves to others. 

We live in a world that thrives on comparison. Whether consciously or unconsciously, we stand next to the societal measuring stick to see where we measure up, leaving us feeling inferior or superior to others. 

Not all comparisons are unhealthy. Striving to learn from the successes of others can be inspiring; it can motivate us to reach our goals and identify areas for improvement.

However, the comparison trap has a darker side: adopting the mindset that "the grass is greener on the other side.” This perspective can lead to envy and resentment toward others, ultimately damaging our self-worth and overall well-being.

Believing in the "greener grass" view is an illusion—it offers only a limited snapshot of someone else's life. 

We often see this in face-to-face conversations or on social media. For example, the perfect marriage we envied may have fallen short of our expectations (or even ended in divorce), or we may discover that someone we thought had it all together struggles with insecurities. 

Theodore Roosevelt's famous words, “Comparison is the thief of joy,” resonate deeply with me.

As a little girl growing up in a large, low-income family, I often felt trapped on the wrong side of a fence, lost in the weeds, yearning to reach the greener side.

This ongoing struggle of inadequacy became a benchmark for proving my worth in adulthood. The "I will show you" mentality led me down a path of perfectionism and people-pleasing. 

Embarking on a journey of self-discovery in my mid-forties brought me full circle to my younger self. The little girl who once felt lost amongst the weeds no longer yearns for the greener side. As she and I navigated through the “fenced-in” illusion, it opened the gateway to my most authentic self.  

My point is that comparison leads to discontentment. It steals joy and creativity, constantly reminding us that we aren’t enough and that what we have isn’t enough. 

Conversely, true contentment doesn't stem from what we own, how much money we have, how attractive or thin we are, or how successful or intelligent we are. 

True contentment arises from finding inner joy and recognizing that we are enough—that what we have is sufficient. Only when we embrace this understanding can we break free from the comparison trap and focus on “watering” the unique gifts and talents the Creator has instilled in us.

As the wise Dr. Seuss once said, "Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”

Embrace your uniqueness.

2025

 Can you believe we’re almost a month into 2025? 

Many people have started the new year by committing to making healthier choices. 

Not to be a downer, but research shows that 88% will fail to achieve their goals by the end of January. This high percentage reflects how quickly motivation can diminish, leading to disappointment and, ultimately, giving up. 

So why do people rush into the new year motivated to change but relapse before the month ends? 

Although I no longer make New Year’s resolutions, there are a couple of reasons why mine failed in the past: 1) I’d made them on a whim (or sometimes as a dare), and 2) I’d set unrealistic goals without a clear strategy on how to achieve them. 

Setting unrealistic goals without a concrete plan often results in failure and frustration when we can’t reach those goals, which are typically not attainable in the short term. It’s like trying to climb a mountain when we’re completely out of shape.

By setting realistic goals—like getting into shape before attempting a mountain climb—we can better navigate the challenges of excessive pressure. 

It took me many years to quit smoking, but I eventually succeeded through slow and steady progress. 

As you work toward your goals for 2025, remember that experiencing setbacks doesn’t mean you’re a failure or indicate weakness. Celebrate your progress and small victories instead of being critical of yourself. Focus on how far you’ve come rather than how far you still have to go. Most importantly, stay determined. Taking small steps is essential for achieving your goals.