Anyone who has been checking out my life lately will know that I'm preparing for a pretty big change in my life.

Sometime this year, I'll be leaving the house I've lived in, raised kids in and raised myself in for the past 24 years. That means a whole lot of paring down and cleaning out. I started with the book shelves; No small task.

I'm a book worm, married to a book worm, who raised book worms. My boy taught himself to read by age three. My youngest was constantly sleeping with at least three books in her bed. Both kids read at a university level by grade 6. My hubby and I met at a science fiction convention. Even half of my cookbooks ( and I have many) have titles like The Baker Street Cookbook, The Jane Austin Cookbook and The Narnia Cookbook.

I came from a family who didn't read. Dad didn't read anything. Seriously. When my sister and I had to clean out his apartment after he passed, the only book there was mum's bible. Mum only read her bible and the occasional cookbook.

I found one of her cookbooks today. It's called Cookbook of foods from Bible Days by Jean and Frank McKibbin. It's falling apart, dog-earred and tattered. It's quite an interesting read, especially for someone who has spent years making medieval recipes and adores lentils. It's interspersed with many biblical references about Israelites wandering through the desert craving melons and the importance of Lamb in the bible. It's actually pretty cool; and it did get me thinking.

I can accept that Mum and Dad were what I refer to as Uber-religious. They really focused their entire lives around their faith. They played organs and pianos, sang, went to events several times a week and never ate a thing without first praying.

I never came out of the Broom Closet to my parents. They had already told me that I will burn eternally in a hell I don't believe in. My mum barely talked to me for a year because I took my daughter to Harry Potter 1 ( okay, it was 5 times, but still). I lived for many years without the basic acceptance of the person whom most of us hold most dear, our Mums.

Acceptance is hard wired into our psyche. We need to be accepted to survive. We need to FEEL accepted to thrive. We are being bombarded by messages that remind us that we are NOT accepted; we are not okay. Finding the inner fortitude to accept our own selves can be difficult. I know.

Once we DO accept ourselves, the real magic begins. We start to feel loved. We start to feel hope. We start to feel powerful. We Start....

I wish you a week of Self-acceptance.