Posts Tagged ‘Glorious Me’

By Guest Writer & Coach:  Renee Lindstrom
Greater Victoria, Nov 18 '16

Greater Victoria, Nov 18 ’16

Local Author and Creative Writer Mentor, Junie Swadron, introduces Deborah and then shares in unique dialog exchange with her to the delight of the audience!

We learned three things about Deborah last night that endeared her  to those of us that where lucky enough to hear some of her story.

  1.  Hawkey is the first person in Canada, diagnosed with acute blast-cell leukemia, to reach the five-year milestone after experimental bone marrow transplantation.
  2. In order to cope with the horrific experiences of her life-time she developed a strategy of pulling her hair called Trichotillomania, that lasted for 38 years.  She cured herself of this condition!!!!!!
  3. That she has become a life-coach and is developing a program to share with others!!!!!

Of course there is so much more to her story that qualifies it as horrific, however her focus has shifted to finding the beauty in life.  This includes how she was able to find acceptance, forgive and find meaningful relationships with her own father before he passed away.

It has been a joy supporting Deborah in launching Glorious Me, My Journey on the Path to Self Love, and to share in this important event!

To find out more or buy her book visit:


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I have submitted a copy of Glorious me, My Journey to the Path of Self Love, to Bolen Books in Hillside Mall!  Waiting to hear results!  Fingers crossed they will offer it in the Greater Victoria area.

bolen Books, Hillside Mall


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Ivy's Bookshop, Oak Bay Ave

I am grateful to Ivy’s Bookshop for carrying Glorious Me, My Journey on the Path to Self Love!

They are located at 2188 Oak Bay Avenue in the heart of Oak Bay Village!

Visit their website @ http://ivysbookshop.com


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Sooke Author Deborah Hawkey with her book, Glorious Me: My Journey on the Path to Self-Love. – Article Credit: Octavian Lacatusu/Sooke News Mirror

Re-printed courtesy of Sooke News Mirror – September, 2016

Sooke resident Deborah Hawkey has gone  through a lot of tough stuff in her life. Instead of letting it drag her down though, she decided to do something about it. She wrote a book.    Hawkey is also the first person in Canada, diagnosed with acute blast-cell leukemia, to reach the five-year milestone after experimental bone marrow transplantation.
In Glorious Me, My Journey on the Path to Self-Love, she takes the reader on a journey of triumph over childhood emotional abuse, life with a rage-alcoholic father, PTSD, and possibly her biggest challenge ever: being abandoned by her mother at the age of six while battling for her life against terminal cancer.

Hawkey is also the first person in Canada, diagnosed with acute blast-cell leukemia, to reach the five-year milestone after experimental bone marrow transplantation,

In the end, her intent was to not only tell a story, but to create a book about the power of the human spirit and its inherent resilience against all odds.
“It is more than a story about childhood illness and emotional trauma, it holds the key to what is possible when you trust, love and forgive,” she said.
Growing up in a dysfunctional family, writing was a way for her to deal with her frustration and anger. She eventually realized that what she was writing was the same thing, over and over.

“I was so angry when I was growing up that I’ve written this book many times and I kept on shredding it, because that’s how I was working on my anger,” Hawkey said.
Everything changed when she joined a writing group in Victoria eight years ago, which allowed her to not only become more comfortable with telling her story, but with writing as well.
“My writing coach told me, ‘the more vulnerable you can be, the better it is for the reader,’” she said. “In the end, I just put all the stories together and added a bunch more, so that’s how it happened.”
She added that at first she was a bit hesitant to share such an important story with everyone, but when the website and everything else came together, she felt more self-confident.
“It feels pretty darn good.”
At this point, she is taking take life coach training and plans to use the book as a vehicle to attract coaching clients who are going through similar trials and who need support.
Hawkey will have her official book launch at The Church of Truth, 111 Superior St. November 18 in Victoria, For more information, please go online to http://www.deborahhawkey.com.


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I followed a friend’s advice “I don’t go to work to make friends”. This sage wisdom kept me locked in the same negative cycle I was accustomed to.  As a Nursing Aide, I was guarded but here at the hospital it was easy to witness the camaraderie between the nursing staff. They probably socialize together, I thought. The nursing staff were having a good time at work and it seemed to me that they probably socialized outside of work too.

I had been a care-aide for about fifteen years but didn’t have the same experience because of my belief that “I didn’t come to work to make friends” .I thought I did a good job, never missed shifts and was reliable, but I wasn’t really present.

Each time I walked into the bathroom, using a walker for support,  I saw a grey haired old man staring back at me in the mirror. Only it wasn’t my dad, it was me. Damn, was I morphing into my dad? When I lay in bed at night I had plenty of time to think about how he made his life hard for himself by believing the lies that he was not worthy and now I see how those negative thoughts got transposed onto me.

I had believed his negative thoughts about me for most of my life. He is dead, so what he thinks no longer matters, I muttered in silent conversation.

I am not my dad; I am me, without all of the negative baggage attached.

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One day when I was five, I was at the hospital for my routine blood work and noticed a large wicker basket full of shiny red apples on the counter at the reception desk. I wanted one of those apples, so I stood on my tip toes and tried to reach, but due to my height, was unable. From the other side of the counter, a woman’s brown hand, gave me an apple. “Here you go,” she said in a soft voice. It was Mrs. James, she was from Jamaica. She added, “You know, we never saw a kid with such a strong will to live.” I nodded in agreement, even though I wasn’t sure what those words meant. I took the apple and went to my seat.
In the deepest recesses of my memory, I remember that some of the nurses had told me that they too had never seen a kid with such a strong will to live. Years later, I often wondered if those words caused me to struggle through situations and events that no ordinary human was meant to endure. Unbeknownst to me at that time, those words, we never saw a kid with such a strong will to live, would end up being my silent mantra throughout my life. They had a safe refuge and burrowed deep in my subconscious memory and became the main motivation for how I lived my life.
This was a sharp contrast to the vile words of my abusive alcoholic father, who repeatedly criticized me and proclaimed, “You’re just a stupid fucking bitch who’s never going to amount to anything.”
As the years progressed, so did the words … they became more vile.
You stupid fucking bitch, YOU ARE never going to amount to anything. How many times would I hear those words in my head, ten thousand, one hundred thousand, a million perhaps, as a constant reminder that I was worthless and unlovable and IT was all my fault. I came to believe that if I wasn’t sick my mom would not have left, leaving my dad with three kids to raise on his own. Of course I believed him and identified heavily with those words.

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For most of my life, I was under the false notion that if I HAD a certain thing (object of my desire) I would DO a certain thing and then BE that thing which I desired.

This type of thinking stemmed from years of trying to fill an emotional void from not having a mother and living with an abusive rage-aholic father. Having nice things made me FEEL whole and complete, even though at the time I didn’t realize I was covering my emotions so I could cope with my losses.

I was obviously unconscious about my own worth and relied on just about anyone to fill me in on my purpose in this life, (as if anyone knew). My main question, which always sounded more like an interrogation was always ‘why”, as in “why did you do this or why did you do that? If I could just get the answer to my life-long internal dilemma, then I would know “who I am” and what my purpose in life was “supposed to BE”.

I spent a lot of money on expensive material objects in an effort BE something/somebody. I thought if I had an expensive camera, that I would DO what professional photographers do (whatever that is) and then…I would BE a professional photographer, for example. If I had an expensive briefcase I would DO what business people DO…and then I would BE seen as a business person. I was under the notion that I had to HAVE a certain thing and DO a certain thing to BE that thing. How mistaken I was.

Overtime, I have come to the realization that I had it all backwards. Finally, I have discovered the real ME, without all the baggage attached, and without false ‘notions.’ It’s a different life! And now I know the correct order of things is BE, DO, HAVE. I know myself to BE a loving and caring individual, I DO what people with those attributes DO (express my emotions freely) my relationships have become an expression of love and I HAVE an amazing life!

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When I was six, I saw the red sign above my bed again. It said N.P.O. in big

white letters and “nothing by mouth” in small letters underneath. I felt my

heart skip a few beats before it formed a lump in my throat. I contemplated

feelings of sadness and betrayal while pondering my inevitable fate.

My first thought was that surely someone made a mistake in the night and

hung the sign over the wrong bed. But I knew better.

When I asked a nurse for a drink of water I saw her glance at the sign.

She answered with a friendly smile and said “NO, but your daddy left you

some pickled pigs feet … your favourite, and you can have them

when you come back”. Come back? I didn’t say anything, I knew better.

My lips were intensely parched and dry. A drink of cold water would have

been nice …anything to quench my thirst and provide relief for my

cracked lips. So I continued picking the dead skin off my lips until they bled.

It seemed to pass the time anyway, while everyone else ate breakfast.

Shortly after, a male nurse came into the room. I saw him show a piece of

paper to the duty nurse and she pointed to me. He came over to my bed,

released the brakes and said we were going for a ride.

I knew exactly what he meant. A RIDE TO HELL.

And he pushed the bed out the door and down the hall to the elevator.

Once inside he pushed “B”. My suspicions were proving correct. B was

for basement. It was where all the experiments were performed.

I watched the numbers change as we descended into HELL. 4 … 3 … 2 … 1 … B.

All was quiet.

A few seconds later the heavy gray doors rattled open.

He pushed the bed down a long dimly lit corridor which smelled like

floor wax mixed with Pine Sol.

There was a room at the end of the hall with the doors open wide, and we

were heading right for it. In my mind I was trying to block out the inevitable

torture, but there was nothing I could do about it now. So I just thought about

the pickled pig’s feet.

There were six or seven people in the room waiting for us to arrive; all wearing

faded green clothes. Their faces were covered with familiar green cloth tied

at the back. Only their eyes were exposed, revealing to me what I already


In the room there was a large overhead light that could be raised or lowered

from the ceiling, and several silver containers on the counter with surgical

instruments in them. Looking through the glass doors over the counter

I could see jars of cotton balls, popsicle sticks, gauze pads and band-aids.

I was transferred to a table under the bright light. No one spoke, but while

lying there it was easy to put names to all the faceless faces.

My eyes seemed intent on piercing the souls of my would-be abusers.

Around the table I easily recognized Doctors Dale, Abrahms, Israels, Singh,

Thompson, and Dr. Avery.

Yellow liquid was swabbed onto my chest,

followed by a green sheet with a hole in the middle, which was placed over me.

At the appropriate moment each doctor took hold of an arm or leg and held

me down so tight that I couldn’t move one inch, even if I wanted to.

I felt like a lamb for the slaughter.

 Dr. Dale approached the table. When she turned toward me a feeling of fear

and betrayal gripped me. She leaned toward me brandishing a long silver needle.

My heart started pounding staccato. She arched over my chest and proceeded

to pierce the skin with the razor sharp point.With continuous pressure she

drilled that needle right into my bones, penetrating the depths of

 my soul, into the marrow. With no anesthetic to dull the horrific pain,

I screamed and begged her to please stop. She was

relentless and completely oblivious to my plea for help. It was useless

to think anyone would save me, let alone care.

The whizzing of the drill caused blood and minute bits of ground

bone particles to fly around my head, and mixed with my salty tears

it formed a paste that caked onto my face and hair. When it was all over,

someone took me back to my room to sleep.

When I woke up, the sign was gone.

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Today, I reminded myself to read this passage from my book “Glorious Me”. It helped me get out of feeling like I had been betrayed. Then I came to the realization that I can stay rooted and grounded in love, no matter what’s going on around me. I am NOT a victim. I can choose how I want to be.

About the same time as I was becoming aware of my fears and working through them, Eckhardt Tolle’s book, A New Earth, was becoming popular. At that time I really didn’t have an understanding of the ego or how it operated in my life, but I was becoming acutely aware of how I identified with the voices in my head. Learning about ego was akin to learning Greek, but once I started to have an understanding, it made sense and in reality it became a one-way ticket out of the darkness and into the light.

Tolle refers to old emotional pain as the “pain-body” and it is this emotional pain that is our unavoidable companion when a false sense of self is the basis of our life. The pain-body lives through us and pretends to be us.

When I realized that pain-bodies unconsciously seek more pain, that is to say, they want something bad to happen, I was getting a glimpse of how my dad lives his life. I was starting to see how he sought emotional negativity and unhappiness and seemed to thrive on making others as miserable as he himself was. He projected his own negative emotions onto me and others because positive, uplifting thoughts are essentially indigestible to his pain-body. The pain-body feeds on negative emotional reactions that vibrate at a frequency resonating with negative thoughts.

Tolle says that conscious present awareness breaks the identification with the pain-body and by not identifying with it, it then ceases to control our thinking and cannot root itself by feeding on our negative thoughts. The pain-body does not dissolve immediately but once the supply of negative thoughts is restricted the pain-body begins to lose energy and slowly dies, like a tumor with the blood supply cut off.

He says that someone who in childhood was neglected or abandoned by one or both parents, as I was, will likely develop a pain-body that becomes triggered in any situation that resonates even remotely with their primordial pain of abandonment. He was right. Those words were a healing salve for my heart. So now that I am aware of this, I no longer allow it to pretend to be me and re-root itself in my life.

Very important for me was my ability to stay present and alert enough to notice the activation of my pain-body as a heavy influx of negative emotion.

Tolle says the energy that was trapped in the pain-body then changes its vibrational frequency and is transmuted into present awareness. In this way, the pain-body becomes fuel for consciousness.

In July of 2009, Tomas Vieira, co-author of “Take Me to Truth” a companion to A Course in Miracles, facilitated a weekend workshop at the Church of Truth. As Tomas spoke about the steps to undoing the ego, I felt a fear rising within me.  The voices in my head were trying to convince me that I was making a terrible mistake. The process of learning to undo the ego was scary yet it was the very thing my soul yearned for as I was on a spiritual journey, hungry and eager to find my true self.

I was coming to know Parkinson’s as a wake-up call to get my attention and awaken to the true purpose of my life. Until now, my world perception was based on separation and reliance on my ego-self for all of my answers. Now I was being shown a better way to perceive my life. This disillusionment phase was really a great opportunity to awaken to the deeper meaning in my life. Tomas said not until we feel threatened and vulnerable do we reach out to Source and ask for help from a pure motive. Our vulnerability becomes our strength when our ego-self is set aside and Truth is sought.

He described how the fastest way to learn what and who we are is to look for it in others. Unconditional Love, Joy, Peace, acceptance, understanding and forgiveness – that is who and what we are!

He said that we will never know this until we realize that every single person is part of us; they only appear, in time and space, to be separate. We overlook this palpable illusion only when we overlook error and give to others all that we deeply seek for ourselves. This way, by practicing it literally, we begin to learn who we truly are and we experience profound Love and Joy.  When we stop seeing the ugliness out there, we will see the Truth within all existence is Love.

He asked how we would be to others and ourselves if all negative thoughts, fears, and beliefs did not exist in our own minds. This led me to wonder what I would be without any thought of emotional pain, anger or frustration.

He described how feelings like anger, hate and judgement, are all immediate signs of SELF-JUDGMENT being projected outside, and once healed, we find Peace, as our ability to take anything personally is seriously diminished.

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Yes, from time to time when I’m giving myself the permission to love myself, it may appear to you that you are the one who has showered me with love feelings. The reality is that the love feelings I feel when I am with you come out of me.” This quote was from Terry Cole–Whittaker and her book What You Think of Me is None of My Business.

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