love

Chapter Twenty-two: Self-Acceptance

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

I think sometimes I had this notion in my mind that once the bathroom scale flashed a certain number, or if I could shop in specific stores, or if my dress size met the standard of beauty that was “bestowed” upon me, I might finally be viewed as worthy enough. Worthy of what? I’m not entirely sure, but there is always a part of me that felt like once those pieces of me were perfect, I would feel whole.

When letting go of weight or losing weight, I guess it depends on whether it comes back—either way, it didn’t change how I felt about myself. Once I lost 80 pounds, I could look in the mirror and think, “It’s just one less thing I have to worry about on top of a long list of other things I stress over.” Still, suddenly, I dealt with getting attention from many people who viewed me as something I didn’t see myself as, and I felt entirely uncomfortable because I hadn’t healed emotionally.

I thought my issue was the weight itself when it was just a symptom of me trying to keep people at arm’s length, and when that was taken away, I was suddenly left with the realization that I didn’t have that protective barrier anymore. Eventually, the weight returned, and I could isolate myself from the world and essentially lose myself in my sadness, which I succeeded at doing for quite some time.

The problem was never the weight. The issue stemmed from being taught untruths about myself and that I lacked value because people in the world deemed my appearance less than theirs, and I could never see myself accurately due to those early wounds. There are probably some issues with body dysmorphia because I remember moving out of the way on the bus while I was with a friend, and she commented that I seemed to think that I took up more space than I did.

I just felt like every person who hit on me during that period of my life was fooled by some mirage that they couldn’t quite see through, and I was terrified of letting them in out of fear they would be disappointed if they saw me for who I was. So, I stayed away and didn’t date since dating sucks, and I had major fears about intimacy. My hair started to fall out eventually, which was brutal and did a number on my egoic self. I hope I can regain that in my heart someday, but I know I will be okay no matter what.

I eventually shaved my head, providing more peace than I had anticipated. I know objectively, other people may not understand and see it as a mistake because I looked less attractive afterwards. Still, it wasn’t a choice based on desirability but rather one of necessity. In my mind, it had become like a diseased limb that needed to be removed to move forward with my life, and its removal from my body signified an end to dwelling on the things I could not change.

In all honesty, I genuinely like who I am as a person, and I love so many of my qualities. Whether I meet a specific beauty standard has no bearing on how I feel about who I am as a person. Beauty is subjective, and although there are many universally attractive people in the world, I will not argue against this fact. Still, something must be said about the entire picture of a person and whether that person makes you feel happy and safe.

Falling in love helps let us see ourselves from a different vantage point, and falling in love with yourself is one of the best things you can do because you start to realize how valuable you are and what you bring to the table.  I could change every aspect of my personality and physical appearance, and the person I’m trying to impress might leave anyway, and then what am I left with? I feel like I’ve lost pieces of myself and wound up alone, regardless.

I’m unsure of how universal these feelings are; perhaps others might not relate to these thoughts, but love has always been elusive. For some reason, I have wrapped up so much of my self-acceptance into romantic relationships. When it always comes back to loving yourself first. If you don’t love yourself first, you might wind up not appreciating your love, or you’ll find someone who doesn’t enjoy the love you have to offer. So, you should take time and find the beauty within yourself to see that beauty in other people.

Sometimes, it just takes one person to transmute our self-image and make us realize those parts of ourselves that we find shameful and unlovable are non-issues. You feel more at ease and perfect despite your incredibly imperfect. These interactions can help, but no matter what, it always comes from loving who you are on the inside and realizing that you are worthy. And I strongly recommend repeating these affirmations to yourself: I am worthy of love. I am worthy of devotion. I am deserving of respect. I am a good friend, and people enjoy my company. And I am worthy of relationships where I feel at ease with myself.

Because we are not meant to spend our days in the company of others who merely tolerate us, and if you find yourself in group situations where you feel that way, it’s always good practice to find new friends. It’s not worth your self-respect and time to be around people who make you think you’re undeserving of being in their presence.

Just remember that the more you recognize those pieces of yourself that are part of why you are incredible and marvel at your uniqueness, the better off you are, and the better off the rest of the world is because you don’t know what kind of impact you can have on someone else’s life. Because keeping yourself small and hidden away from the world isn’t the way to make a difference in the lives of others.

Remember that there is a reason for being here, and you’re just as important as anyone else. Take some time to be gentle with yourself and find the light within. You are so beautiful, my friend, and that beauty has nothing to do with the colour of your hair and how expensive your clothes are. It’s about remembering your divinity and realizing all the beautiful things that make you—you! I wish nothing but the best for you and hope this book finds you well.

Chapter Twenty-One: Unexpected Gifts

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

My father passed away suddenly, but not surprisingly, on February 14, 2023. He passed without warning in the literal sense, but I felt he would soon be leaving this world and knew it wasn’t long until he “shuffled off his mortal coil.” I received a call from his brother, but I already knew. Within the days that preceded his passing, I found an old birthday card from his mother, which still had some of his childhood photos in it, and I had this vague sense that he would be leaving soon.

I remember seeing my uncle’s name on Facebook Messenger requesting my phone number, and I knew what those words meant. I had thought about how I might feel when he died for years. We weren’t close, but I grew to appreciate and genuinely love the man, albeit from a distant yet compassionate approach. I had longed for a closer connection to him for most of my life. Still, in the years before his passing, I became very much at peace with my feelings regarding our connection and his inability to fully commit to being a father figure.

I remember it hit harder than I expected, and the emotional wave that followed was somewhat overwhelming. I think when he died, my dream of being a fully-fledged family member on his side of the family died, too, and as a result, I chose to attend his celebration of life ceremony put on by his friends in Vancouver, BC, namely due to the cost and only being able to attend one event. The trip itself was a bit of a challenge since I had just begun working as a temp in an office that seemed genuinely irritated rather than concerned or compassionate about the fact that I had just lost a parent and for the simple fact that I didn’t have the money to fly out to BC.

I often followed my intuition over logic and decided to make it work. I booked a direct flight from Halifax to Vancouver, and immediately after I sat down, the woman sitting next to me asked me if I would be OK with switching seats with her husband, who was across the aisle from me. When I did, I realized I was sitting next to an empty seat for the duration of the flight.

I got off in Vancouver, hopped on the sky train, and went through the city streets looking for my bed for the week, which was the least expensive hostel I could find. It sat atop a very loud bar, and coincidentally, my father’s celebration of life was held on St. Patrick’s Day weekend. And I remember waking up at 3:00 AM to bagpipes being played below me; thank God for earplugs.

My father’s name was Patrick, and he was proud of his Irish heritage, so it just felt right that I was there. I honestly hadn’t slept that well in months. I was offered by a woman from Iceland who was doing a practicum up north to travel to Vancouver Island and stay in a hostel with her there, but by the time I went to book a bed for the night, they were completely sold out, so I decided to stay where I was.

I was incredibly nervous on the day of his celebration of life, but I decided to leave incredibly early to ensure I arrived on time. I had to travel by sky train and bus to get there and ended up missing my stop and having to backtrack about two kilometres. It was the most beautiful weather of the entire trip, and it was such a welcome gift to walk alongside some water and sunshine before meeting his friends. Several bald eagles flew above me, and I could see some of their massive nests. I’ve always had such an affinity for those animals that I felt very at peace with how the day would unfold, and I think it allowed me to trust even more in the process.

I had arrived early and went to walk into the room; I was incredibly nervous and self-conscious, but I walked in confidently and approached this beautiful woman with blonde hair in the corner. I introduced myself, and she told me my father had once dated. To say that I was shocked would be an understatement, but it made me happy to know that he had, however brief it might have been, he had been in love with someone so kind and so beautiful.

There are just some people you meet, and you know immediately that they are among the kindest of souls; I felt comforted by the fact that he dated someone like her. That meant that it said something about who he was as a person and that it helped me cope with my love life at the time and how precious our time, connections, and experiences genuinely are.

I was walking around the room and introducing myself to people here and there, and eventually, someone gave the first speech. I decided immediately to say something because I would only be afforded this opportunity once, and I didn’t want to have any regrets after the event. I spoke briefly, with my voice barely holding it together and my eyes full of tears. I told them all, “that although I did not know my father very well, it was a testament to hear such beautiful words about him and to know so many people loved him so much.”

It was a wonderful day, and I spoke with many of his friends and so many of them could see so much of him in me, and I feel like my presence gave them comfort in knowing that he lived on in some fashion regardless of their beliefs around death and spirituality. During the celebration of life, I took a few photos and left with his ex-girlfriend. We spoke at length about him, and she told me all the nice things that he had told others about me, which I never really heard from him directly, but our drive back to the city gave me more insight into my own life and my connections to men how I could quickly draw parallels between their relationship and the relationship I was experiencing in my own life at the time. I found it profoundly comforting in some strange way.

But I found in the weeks that followed the event I was torn up inside for going to his celebration of life. I kept recounting all the beautiful things I had heard that day. I kept reminding myself that their memories differed strongly from mine because I stood in a room filled with love. I heard all these stories from people I didn’t know. They knew exactly who I was and heard amazing things about me when I had never heard those words. I needed to listen to them the most, and I struggled to reconcile my ambivalent feelings around my father and his passing. I struggled with knowing that even though he felt all those things about me, he was never able to verbalize it.

One of the last messages I ever sent my father was about how much I appreciated him and how he flew across the country to see me when I was eight. While he was in town, we spent the day together, and we were just about to watch the movie, Toy Story. We were standing inside a movie theatre when we heard a question asked over the radio station playing in the lobby.

The question was, “Who played “Hamm in the movie Toy Story?” And my father said, “It’s John Ratzenburg,” under his breath. I remember urging him to call into the radio station, which he did, winning the prize and giving it to me. It was a great day and a memory that I have always cherished. The reality was I felt like my father, and I shared a lot of similar characteristics and ways of thinking about things and appreciated certain forms of art in the same ways that other family members might not have shown much interest in. I love the TV show Jeopardy! which my father applied for many years ago. He never made it onto the show, but we always shared that same love for random knowledge.

I was left mourning all the missed opportunities around spending time with one another. I don’t think he realized how much I had longed to have him in my life and how much I appreciated those brief interactions with him. We often long for elusive things and connections that seem tenuous at best and do not fully appreciate the people there for us 100% of the time. The ones that make us feel truly loved and do so much without reservation.

My mom is a giver in every sense of the word. She goes out of her way perpetually to help others and fully lives life from a heart-centred approach. I often think about how indicative it is within the feminine experience and how often women play the most unappreciated roles. It’s one thing to give a significant gift that comes at the perfect time and helps alleviate stress. It’s another thing to consistently be there 100% of the time, helping pick someone up when they fall, and being that solid rock and foundation allowing a person to flourish when, under other circumstances, they might have faltered and then been swept away by unruly events and turbulent emotions.

It’s something to be recognized because she has been a gift from God, and I am only the person I am because of how she helped mold me. And the reality is that had my father played a more prominent role in my life; I likely would be less of who I am now, possibly in worse ways. Not because his presence was overtly detrimental, but I’m not sure if he knew how to be a father fully, and those moments that hurt the most would have been amplified if he had been in my life more than he was. I am so grateful for both my parents, and I’m so thankful that I had such a strong, confident, capable, and loving powerhouse of a mother who helped pave the way for me in so many ways while also ensuring that I continually stay humble and always look for opportunities to be in service.


 

Chapter Eighteen: Pearls of Wisdom

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

There is no such thing as a coincidence—that is a fallacy, and when you begin to see the intricate play of situations that make up your life, you will start to see more synchronicities. There will be times when you are in alignment, and you notice things taking place in your life that leave zero shred of doubt as to what direction you should follow and what choices you should make.

A few years ago, while waiting for a bus on my way to work, I was working as a temp in a car dealership, hating every moment, and I remember one day, I was oblivious to everything happening around me. I had my earbuds in and the hood of my winter jacket up, and I was trying to keep warm before I could get on my third bus that morning. Suddenly, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, and I looked up and saw a young, attractive man standing before me. I immediately took out my earbuds and looked up as he motioned towards the street we were on and asked me if any buses were expected to arrive at our stop.

I glanced to where he had pointed and realized the entire street was closed, and water was gushing everywhere. I started to panic because I knew I was still far from the dealership and had no idea how to get there on time. One might assume someone his age, who was younger than me and seemingly more put together, would have a cell phone. He immediately started asking me questions to which he already seemed to know the answer and guided me on which app to use and how to find the best route.

I luckily made it to work on time. Although I didn’t stay at that job very long, it was a stepping stone that saved my life figuratively. Without this perfect interaction, I wouldn’t have made it to work on time and likely would have quit shortly after, preventing me from getting to the next step in my journey. He needed to be there then, and I needed to listen to his advice.

I knew immediately in a spiritual sense what had happened. I had experienced moments like this and heard people talking about it in their own life. It might not have seemed as significant to others, but it was for me. It was that recognition of knowing there was more in my physical reality and this world than we can fully comprehend.

This notion of being in the right place at the right time is very much orchestrated on the other side, and a story from a family friend whose car broke down in the middle of nowhere often comes to mind. It had overheated, and she got out of her vehicle and tried to find out what was wrong. She began tinkering under her car’s hood when she heard an unfamiliar voice say to her, “I think your radiator needs water,” a few moments later, a man returned with a jug, which she poured into the radiator.

She started her car, put down the hood, and looked around to find herself alone on an isolated road. She knew something otherworldly had taken place but wasn’t sure what happened, but immediately went to see my mother, who could only tell her, “You’re driving around with holy water in your car.”

I’m sure there are moments in your own life when you tell other people and explain to them how miraculous it was that you survived a situation that seemed so daunting, or when you received the right words at the right moment, or you have heard about a friend who received some divine intervention that changed their life forever and could have even changed their views on spirituality.

The language that surrounds these scenarios is less important than the acknowledgement that they exist. I feel the importance lies in recognizing what took place was sacred. Perhaps beyond that not-too-distant veil that we may think is much further than it is, someone decided to step forward and assist in some manner to help you get to where you need to be.

These situations can also occur subtly more when we are guided through synchronicities where we hear the perfect song playing that reminds us of someone we love or multiple people tell us on the same day to apply for that job we’ve been considering. When we continually see spiritual signposts that gently nudge us to where we’re supposed to go for what seems far too long, we might feel more supported by spirit. It’s no less essential to receive those synchronistic moments in life. Although the big moments are great because they are good examples that allow us to feel heaven on earth for a moment, the reality is that even those seemingly less significant situations are just as critical.

The reality is nothing matters, and yet, at the same time, everything matters. In the same way, no life on earth is less important than another; the same is true for our choices and how interconnected everything is to the spirit world. There is no separation, and there is no death, and our lives, in retrospect, are very brief. What matters is being kind to ourselves and each other and remembering that we are just as crucial to that cosmic puzzle as the colleague who frustrates you the most, or your best friend who is doing way more exciting things in life than you are, or the homeless person trying to keep warm.

So, when you have a miraculous experience with a stranger who approaches you and tells you the absolute most perfect thing at that moment, trust that what you experienced was complete and divine. Feel the love that represents deep within your soul because that’s what it is. It’s their way of helping you and ensuring you don’t feel alone or guiding you in the right direction. So, if you ever receive wisdom from a kind stranger and are reluctant to heed the advice, remember those words stem from a place of unconditional love and that they want what is best for you. Treasure those interactions and remember how treasured you are.

Chapter Fourteen: Perpetually Seeking Friends

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

I often use the word “weird” as a term of endearment, which can be offensive to others when I wholeheartedly see it as a positive trait to possess. I’ve always found friendship elusive and struggle to maintain relationships with people. I’ve always felt somewhat isolated and often spent time alone rather than conversing with others because I usually feel strange and misunderstood.

I will often not use the term friend when describing people out of concern or worry that they don’t see me in the same light. I don’t put myself out there very often because I’ve had situations where I’ve even asked to take pictures with people at parties, and they refused, so I don’t ask to take pictures anymore.

I consider myself to be charismatic and friendly, but friendship is a concept that I struggle with. I do have friends. I’m not saying that I don’t, but I feel like even within those entanglements, I often feel lost and struggle with why everyone else seems to be doing it the right way, and I’m just not. I feel this most acutely in rooms with women who are very heteronormative; I feel like I’m this ogre lurching in the back who wants to talk about film theory and what their favorite albums are, and what aspects of that music are so important to them and find I just don’t know how to talk to people sometimes.

I think about this a lot, and the only way I’ve reconciled this is that some people are just meant to be “losers.” We are told to stay on the periphery of what society deems as usual and become objective observers who can create pieces of art or beautiful music or write books that have an impact and can be relatable to others like us and appreciated because we see things differently and experience the world with a different set of eyes.

This helps me when I feel entirely less than and feel so vastly different from others that I start to conjure up images of Stephen King and his vast number of works. He’s created all these pieces that people appreciate and love, but maybe he’s not the most popular guy at the party. Although I could be completely wrong, and he might be a fucking blast to be around, this image of him eating pretzels alone in a crowded room is akin to a talisman I carry in my mind when I struggle socially.

It legitimately gives me peace and solace to think about maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be for me to be the person I am and to be able to see things the way I do and remind others that being visionary or creative often equates to being misunderstood, and uncool because to make changes, and to be innovative you have to take issue with the status quo and view reality as fucking bizarre to show people that maybe there are better ways of doing things sometimes.

Rather than be a person who exists in this world and be part of the world, it’s a necessity to have others who are not invited to those parties. Those with doors closed in their faces are mistreated and misunderstood because they often write the best books, create the most exciting movies, and compose wonderful music. Their words have meaning and are eventually valued by society despite those moments where they are deemed as less than or feel they are perceived as such. We survive the numerous catastrophes that make up our complicated lives through perseverance and sheer will sometimes. Still, I find the most exciting people are the ones who had their characters built up by trauma and could make a life for themselves despite weighing the world on their shoulders.

I see no point in spending time in rooms with people who don’t want me there. I don’t feel the need to prove myself or constantly try to defend who I am to those who seem hellbent on misunderstanding me. If you don’t want to be my friend, then that’s okay. I will be okay.

I don’t want to be friends with people who don’t want my friendship or pine for the love of those who will never love me back. Because at the end of the day, I’m an awesome person who’s fun to be around, and even though I may be weird, I can take solace in the fact that maybe I can envision myself standing next to Stephen King at a party or standing off to the side with my bowl of pretzels somewhere, and perhaps I can be a Talisman for someone else someday. I know the self-proclaimed “odd ones” can do good things worth remembering, and it isn’t necessary to be understood by everyone to create works that have an impact.

Chapter Eleven: Daydreaming

/ daniellemacquarrie / Leave a comment

As a child, I often found myself not paying attention in class, which I think was mainly because I was so often bullied in school, even within the classroom setting, and I was just smart enough not to have to apply myself, so I didn’t.

So, I effectively learned how to daydream my days away until I could go home, and I didn’t realize how vast my dreamscape was in terms of how I lived my life until I started working for a hotel in my city of Halifax, Nova Scotia back in 2021 as a reservation agent. I was working under a woman who was, in hindsight, cartoonishly vindictive and would go out of her way to make my life difficult when it would only add more work for her. She wasn’t the brightest light on the street, and I noticed I began to zone out while doing my job. I was good at it since it was easy, and once I figured out all the software, I could easily daydream about other things while booking guests into the hotel rooms.

In a sense, I was living life from a space of non-existence and at the time, it brought me joy because I was disassociated from reality and numbing out from sheer willpower alone. I was living in the fantasy world of my creation, and I became aware that while some people use drugs or alcohol, and I think even mental illness to some degree sometimes, I was getting through life by merely daydreaming my way through it. It felt easier not fully seeing and experiencing the world but just being numb to it all and creating my reality.

I was genuinely content during this phase of my life. Still, I was also not living it either or feeling rewarded in a philanthropic sense, and I wholeheartedly know that spirit is much more aware and has a greater plan for all of us than we could ever fully grasp. We are often guided by nature, and sometimes forcibly so—into positions that allow us to best serve others, often by making us feel uncomfortable doing what is deemed as status quo or what seems like the most levelheaded, balanced or “normal” option because our purpose for being here is more crucial to the development of humanity than working a job that gives us “stability.”

Sometimes, there is no other option for those with a calling in life. We can try different careers, but ultimately, we will be pushed into a specific role because it is part of our life mission, what is best for others and why we incarnate. It’s what we signed up for before we arrived here in this lifetime, so regardless of what we think we should be doing, the universe will gently nudge us in the right direction.

And in all honesty, it sucks sometimes. There are moments when I reflect on my past self and my ability to drift through life as if I wasn’t even really here, and I have fleeting thoughts. Still, they pale in comparison because I was effectively sleepwalking through life and not accomplishing things that would invoke pride within myself or doing what felt innate to me. I was barely here and being nudged to be more present and express myself more.

It’s easier to live a safe life, and I was afraid to delve into things that inspire me the most because I was afraid to fail at something that meant so much to me. As comfortable as it is to continue to exist in my little wonderland, I was not doing what I was told to do by taking calls from a tiny office, and I wasn’t making a high-yield spiritual impact by working at a job like that. Spirit knew, spirit always knows, and I needed to remove myself from the situation to spend more time reflecting and musing about my experiences.

Eventually, my boss, a great teacher in my quirky little life story, decided to make my work life more uncomfortable, and I decided to part ways with the establishment. I was working on a creative project, which became more demanding of my time, and it was just spirit’s way of pushing me to do something better and more in alignment with who I am and what I want to become.

Sometimes, I think I know what’s better for me than better than the universe does. I can get caught up in thinking about how my life should look and how things should develop and unfold. Still, I’m not supposed to control every detail of my life, and sometimes, I have romanticized relationships or situations that I thought were meant for me. I felt that parting ways would be far too devastating a fate—only to move past that experience to find out later there was something far more significant and better suited for me, but had I not gone through those initial experiences, I might not have had such a deep appreciation for the good things that eventually came into my life.

Sometimes, growing spiritually creates an unusual offshoot and an unspoken side effect that can leave you questioning whether it’s worth it. Ultimately, it is, but there are moments where doubt can creep in, and I can go off track due to not being grounded enough, but spirit gently reminds me to realign myself and take a moment to breathe—breathe. The greatest gift I have ever received is transcending that veil and fully seeing how much our reality pales compared to what lies on the other side. When we realize that all our experiences are transient, whether good or bad, it helps us trudge through life’s difficulties more easily and reminds us how vast the concept of living is when we remove death from the equation. 

Each person has a purpose for being here. We should all strive to find a path that makes us happy and to lessen the pain of others around us since it is far better to serve the higher good and fulfill our unique purpose for being here than living our lives for others.

The world is far too dark sometimes and bleak to limit our self-perception to an image we were taught to accept as who we truly are. I’d much rather live a life where I feel I’m making a difference than lesson myself for “keeping up with the Joneses” or fulfilling an acquaintance’s view of who I should be.

Our time here is precious, and our purpose isn’t to daydream through life or fast forward through the weekdays so we can enjoy moments when we’re not sitting in a cubicle, longing to be somewhere else. It’s about making the opportunities count, helping others move through life in a less burdensome way, and enjoying the sweet aspects of life with the ones we love as often as we can.