This blog is not a place where I have been political. I try to keep that clear of this space; because everyone has a right to their beliefs and truly I am not a fan of starting internet conversations about politics. It gets nasty quick. I steer clear of that behavior as well. But I can no longer hold my tongue on this issue. And it is time to have civil conversations outside of our political boundaries. We as a nation, have a compound problem when it comes to mass shootings, but we need to rise together to make a stand and start stripping away at each of the issues at hand and make a difference, and we need help from the top. We do need to be there for one another and help each other heal, but it is way past time to only hope and pray. It is time to truly make this a pressing, front of the line issue in every home. I know some of you already have and I thank you for leading the way. I am here with you now, out loud, in the open. We need to make this stop.
After listening to the president speak about the horrific event in Florida yesterday, I wanted to write him a letter. (To view his speech click here). Something inside me felt this was the best place to start with my response to what happened yesterday and how I think we need to move forward in handling it.
And my letter to the President would say…
Dear Mr. President,
Today I write this letter with a heavy heart. I know you are also coping with the tragedy of yesterday’s events in Parkland, Florida.
Sir, I am a patriot, a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother of four, who cares deeply about her local community and country. At fourteen, I followed politics religiously and Meet the Press was my favorite weekly program. I would meet anyone head on to talk about almost every issue regarding American Politics. I couldn’t wait to vote. I knew that my one vote mattered and could change the world. Sadly, though I am no longer the idealist I once was. Soon after graduating college and becoming a third-grade teacher the world and how it worked left me a bit jaded and disillusioned. When my oldest son was two and could understand the news; I turned it off permanently.
But, today, sir, I am writing you with my idealist’s heart. Respectfully, sir, we have a problem. It is a compound problem with no easy solution, and I know that many of us have begun to be a part of that solution, but we need your help. We have had enough mass shootings. These need to stop. I know you may not be able to stop them altogether; I am not naive. But sir, if you are the man of action that you say you are, then I know you can make a plea and lead legislators and policymakers to take swift action.
I am a patriot, who is for responsible gun ownership, but our gun legislation is too lenient when a few people can cause such earth-shattering devastation. We need to feel safe in a movie theater, university, church, at work and our children need to feel safe at school. I heard you tell our children, “you were never alone, and you never will be.” Sir, I know you mean those words, so I implore you to stand beside them and start to pull together our legislators and create a campaign that truly starts to address how we are going to handle mental health and gun control in our country. Sir, you asked the children to “answer cruelty with kindness.” Can you please lead the way?
I think there are some issues we can table for a moment; like immigration, and pull some of those resources front and center for our nation’s children. We have no future if we don’t protect our children. We need to put children ahead of special interest groups and the dollars they contribute. We need to put political party lines aside and stand united against the issue of mass shootings and find ways to help prevent them.
Mr. President, I am for you. See I believe even if we disagree and even if I feel disappointed by your politics and behavior that the best way for our country to move forward is to believe in you and think that you can indeed make a difference. We need you, sir. We need you to call for reform. We need you to make this a high priority. We need you to address mental health. We need you to look carefully at gun control. We need you to lead the way in answering cruelty with kindness. Simply put, we need you.
We have had over 1,000 people killed in mass shootings in America and the occurrences of these horrific events are increasing. The majority of the weapons were obtained legally, and most of the perpetrators had multiple weapons. One had 24 weapons. Who needs 24 weapons? The Second Amendment was not written to protect that; there is no reason for that kind of arsenal. I am not saying we need to take away guns, but when airport security is more rigid and uncomfortable than purchasing a weapon, we have a problem.
It is also essential that we address mental health. I know that highly educated people have been studying these shootings for years. We have to have some knowledge that can better help us prevent these. The knowledge our country can assemble and distribute with your actions behind it is sure to make a difference.
When my children thank our first responders and soldiers for their service, I know America is exceptional. After these events, the way Americans come together to heal, I know America is great. I am not worried about making America great again; it already is. I am concerned about making America safer. I am concerned about our children. I am a mother first, and I do not believe there is such a thing as other people’s children. I think we’re in this together and we must find a solution to the issues that need to be addressed so that we can help all the children and continue America’s greatness.
You were right when you said, “We must take a stand that makes a difference.” I am taking that stand every day here on the front lines. I am teaching my children to listen. I am teaching my children how to be safe. I am raising them the best that I can and using all available resources at my disposal. I am helping the children in our community and regularly try to make a huge effort to help those at promise youth in my community. Unfortunately, I feel that I am not appropriately equipped for what I am up against. I need your help. We need your help. Please make this a priority. Put the best people on it. Use our best resources. Let’s make a stand that makes a difference. I have a dear friend that always says, “Don’t just be sorry, be active.” She is very wise, and also right. We lost beautiful lives yesterday. We have lost so many beautiful lives. So many families are forever changed. It is time not only to be sorry and but to be active.
Please check out this article from the Washington Post written in November of last year. It is powerful.
CNN outlines some of the most deadly events in U.S. History in this article here. This list is way too long.
I love Brene Brown’s post about this – you can read it here.
Gratitude is still lingering in our minds as it was Thanksgiving for some of us just a few months ago. I saw the Facebook posts blowing up with the 30 days of thanks. I saw the pictures about being thankful and blessed. Then, December brought us Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, Advent, and many more holidays around the world. In our neck of the woods the Holiday Cards come zipping in (mine will be a New Year’s card this year, or around then) and the pictures of families fill them. Smiling kids, dogs, and little notes about what is going on in everyone’s worlds. I love them, cherish them to pieces, but my heart breaks a little when I think of who might be missing from those photos or my friends that will never have a complete family photo ever again. How crushing this time of year can be for some. And with it being January that doesn’t just lift away like a fog; even in our happiest moments; pain becomes a lifeline on our hands, the words on the tips of our tongues we do not speak, and the ache in our heart that never quite goes away.
Some of you have heard me share this story, but I want to share it here again. A preacher shared this at a sermon.
A property owner needed to drill a well. Out came the man with the tools to drill the well. As they began drilling they ran into difficulty because it was winter and the ground was frozen. Frustrated, the land owner was ready to give up, “I guess we will just have to wait until spring,” he said.
“Oh no,” replied the man drilling. “You need to keep drilling. If you find water in the winter you will have water all year-long.”
It reminds me of all of those that are grateful; that have had moments of great loss as well. And that sometimes our hearts are frozen over with the cold grief. While it may seem impossible; we can drill down, even in the winter, even in the bleakest of circumstances; which I know we are hearing about on the news and some of us are living through. We must keep drilling to reach the water; to reach faith and gratitude so that it becomes something we have 365 days a year. So it becomes our habit and pattern of behavior; not just for the end of the year, but all year long. It can be the thing that sits beside us when we have fallen and it can be the voice that whispers us awake again and again. It can be the cheerleader that helps us forge ahead with each step that we take.
When I was very little I knew I was different because I could see and hear things others could not. I learned to keep this part of myself hidden. And when I hid that part of myself it became easy to hide. I have spent the last several years unveiling my hidden pieces. Breaking open and becoming vulnerable. It has been one of the most difficult things to do. And yet it is yielding powerful results in my life; this drilling down. It has led me to things and moments I never dreamed of having.
I get to witness miracles. God gave me an amazing gift and I am fortunate enough to help others with it. Even with the joy that comes with what I witness, the weight and sadness of the lives I interact with weigh heavy on my heart. I would much rather my clients loved ones were still physically with them then me have the job that I do. It’s a tough one and most days it makes me feel less than, instead of unique because no matter what I do it will never be enough. That is just the nature of it.
The point is that I suck at this life thing on the regular. I am pretty sure most days I make more mistakes than not, but in the end, I win more than I lose. Breaking myself open to being completely vulnerable has made me unable to sit at many tables; it quickly separates me from people, and definitely makes me an outcast. I am readily seen as different. But aren’t we all seen that way in some realm of our lives?
When I look at my family, my friends and see those family cards flowing in; I can see between the lines. I see the triumphs and the fears; the dark and the light in their lives. We are all just surviving the best way we know how.
It would be a beautiful thing if we stopped using our differences as weapons and instead used them to be the light in one another’s lives. We have one thing in common; each of us is human. Each of us has a beating heart with emotions and a body with basic needs. If we started where we are, THE SAME, and cherished where those similarities ended and made room for everyone at the table that would be a miraculous world. And not just because we would all find a way to coexist; but because when we start to allow miracles into our lives; they start to show up over and over again.
Because I take a blind leap of faith every day – yes, it is blind; there is no way for me to know what I believe is truth – I witness miracles in my work and life every single day; multiple times a day, but I know that is because I believe in something greater than myself; I believe miracles happen every second of every day and I watch for them and give thanks for them. That is what allows their frequency in my life; that I expect them to be there. I know this is not easy for all; believing in something you can’t see is so very hard.
Clients of mine often express their struggle to comprehend a session and truly believe what happened was real. Even when we are presented with a direct, divine answer from the universe that there is something greater, that we are not in control, it is hard to believe. I get it. Nothing anyone can do, or anything you witness can force you to believe in anything; you have to choose to believe. But, that is the thing, what I do isn’t about proof; it isn’t about the idea that frequency will make it real and solid; you have to believe on your own.
As always, with what I do and how to explain it; I think of God. I think of Jesus.
Jesus was given to us as a most precious gift and he gave his life for us. He wasn’t invited to every table in life and he isn’t invited to every table in death, as there are people who do not believe in him. People make a choice to believe or not to believe. Regardless of how others viewed him, he lived his best life, vulnerable, open, and believing in something greater than himself.
When we believe, when we chose to be open, we find the miracles in life; we witness greatness that has no other explanation. I think being vulnerable, open and choosing to believe is enough. It is what I chose each day. Right or wrong it leads me toward faith, miracles and blessings. I wouldn’t choose any other way.
Peace be with you,
It is 11:11 when I look at the clock. It is exactly then when I think to myself this live wire energy that is coursing through me isn’t bad after all. It isn’t something I need to learn how to stop or control. Instead I need to learn how to just be with this new wave of energy in me.
It is hard to pinpoint what unlocked it; so much has happened at once; all my dreams coming to fruition. Making solid friendships, starting my business, speaking my mind without guilt, truly finding the places I belong. I am not sure if all or one of those things opened up a part of me I haven’t felt since I was a nine-year-old little girl, but I have come undone in an empowering new way and all that runs through my mind is Will.i.am saying, “We on some next level shit.”
For the last several months, I have tried to stop this excess energy running through me. Tried to calm and quiet it. My stomach has the same anxious topsy-turvy feeling it had when I was a kid on Christmas morning. My heart feels like it is going to jump right out of my chest, flop around like a fish and then just take off like a jet-propelled rocket. Every nerve ending in my fingers is tingling with electricity and I am pretty sure my blood is coursing with rapid strength through every vein and artery in my body.
Seeing the time on the clock at 11:11, I knew this was something positive and strong that I just had to lean into instead of try to change or control. 11:11 can have many different meanings, but ultimately to me it means that the Universe is with you. Pay attention to what is happening around you and embrace that you are exactly where you need to be in this moment and that all you wish and envision for yourself is possible.
This can be a difficult to accept. Thinking that you can have and ask for anything your heart desires is sometimes a scary thought. It has been for me most of my life; but living in the RIGHT NOW (read more about that here if you missed that post) I have come to accept that what I believe is absolutely possible. We all have the power to manifest our own desires into our lives; we are built for joy; meant for joy.
So, as I take off into the second quarter of running my own business, and having my first seminar (Want to come? You can get tickets here.) and living a life with more joy and self-care I am embracing the excitement for what is to come.
Feeling like my young self is good news to my forty-year old body. This is the year to embrace the excitement and all that is good in this life, each and every moment. Life is good, abundance is everywhere and anything is possible. And as I conjure up my inner Black Eyed Pea,
“We on some next level shit
Power will full with energy
From the soul we sonically
Crossed the globe, and seven seas
Take care our families
Rocking shows makin’ cheese
I’mma be out with my peas
Living life, feeling free
That’s how it’s supposed to be
Come join my festivities
Celebrate like I’mma be”
Wishing you happiness, abundance and opportunity this day and every day and that you “celebrate like I’mma be”,
Despite my hopeful nature, fear must have taken root in my heart somewhere in the beginning of motherhood or maybe that is just what happens to moms; we steal our hearts and strengthen them because we know the world can hurt those most precious to us without any warning. Going worst case scenario becomes an easy leap to take. Our toughened, ready for the worst hearts keep us on edge and ready to protect our sacred children; our most blessed gift at any cost.
My kids; all kids; face so many pressures. Childhood is no longer the breeze of playing kick the can in the street until dark.
I know our family has more to be grateful for than not. Unfortunately, no one is unscathed in this life. Suffering is heavy and universal.
Maybe it is the time of year; or maybe it is the shift from two jobs to one, but my awareness of my children seems to be in laser focus.
I have been watching my littles closely lately. Their struggles and hurts rippling through my own heart. One in particular is on my mind a great deal. He has Tourette’s; I have written about it before. I don’t feel right telling his side of the story or giving too much information here. However, I think voicing my side might heal me a bit; help me a bit.
As I watch him shake and hear his vocal tic I want to help. The recent increase in frequency isn’t slowing down. I haven’t seen him like this in years. It hurts my heart and I try to have open conversation, but anything I bring up lately just makes it worse. I don’t know how to help him without drawing attention to the tics. I am trying to ignore it; yet for some reason it is proving difficult. I wonder if it is bothering him at school. I know it is in his file and he doesn’t want me stepping in at school yet. It just hurts my heart to see his body jolt and jerk against his wishes.
I am grateful for his positive attitude, caring friends and his health. It doesn’t erase the hurt I feel though. I still worry that it bothers him; I still want to give him resources and options and that seems to be the last thing he wants. And I know that is his right and so I must wait on the sidelines as he makes the plays until he asks for my assistance.
I know it is just best to be a safe place to land and for weeks I have not spoken a word about it to him or anyone else. He will come to me if he needs me. The door is open and he knows it. So instead, I will have faith he is really unbothered and comfortable. To know he is confident and at ease is what is most important after all.
With four they each have their struggles. As I tucked in one of my youngest, he started to cry. When I asked him what was wrong, he said that kids make fun of him. Ah, the tale as old as time. And as I calmed him this Mama knew it would not be the last time we faced this challenge. Such is the way of the world. Hopefully, I help build his confidence enough the taunts from others fall at his feet instead of pierce his heart, for that is all we can do. I have to be the soft place to land, the cheerleader on the sideline.
Mistakes come on my end, too. Sometimes they call you in for a hurt or a scrape and in an effort to make them tough, you nurture too little. The balance between that becomes difficult as they get older. Kissing a bumped knee was easy, now too much or too little attention is harder to navigate with my pre-teen.
Mothering is not for the faint of heart. But as I tell my kids, I am doing the best I can and the therapy you may eventually need from my mistakes is on me.
From one mama bear to the next, do the best you can, hold on tight, keep those cheers from the sidelines coming and strengthen your patience because the older they get the harder this parenting gig becomes, richer and more rewarding for sure, but a whole slew of variables make it more nerve racking and moving from front and center in their lives to the side is tougher than you expect.
In 140 days I will turn 40. Maybe because it marks another decade it has me in knots. Turning 10 was a big deal. I can remember fifth grade in detail. I was excited for junior high and looking forward to being more grown up. My 20s had 40 years of hope before me. I couldn’t see the finish line at all. The crest of the hill was all that was ahead of me and the anticipation of what was at the top of that was exhilarating. I still was itching with the thrill of making the world a better place. If idealism was electric; I probably could have powered a small city. I was ready to stop making everyone happy. My 20’s were going to be spent doing the things that made me happy. I was going to be a teacher and inspire change daily.
At the end of my 20’s marriage and babies came. I spent the beginning of that decade wanting to make a difference, wanting to follow my own dreams and I would end that decade feeling like I had lost all that ground.
My kids were my purpose in my 30’s. Knowing I was going to give birth to 4 beings whose light was so much greater than mine, who the Earth needed so much more than me kept my own life secondary. Everything was for them, the job I chose, where we moved, getting pets, driving myself out of my shell so they could have a better example. My 30’s felt like a decade of compromise and concession. There was exponentional growth that occurred here which was odd because it is also the decade where I took the worst physical care of myself.
Now with a decade of placating and concession behind me I see 40 ahead to the end. To the light at the finish and it has me slowing down, grasping at stillness. My past following close behind like confederate statues, constantly reminding me of my transgressions.
Yesterday, I took a walk and turning 40 kept haunting my thoughts. The thoughts I wrote above came to me then. And I spent the rest of the day working, parenting, driving kids here and there, back to school nighting and as I was headed to a board meeting I was filled with so much angst about getting older. I was in a major funk. I prayed for guidance and clarity.
Driving down the road, I notice the two cars ahead of me. One is stopped and the other is turning around and as that second car u turns I see the accident. I pull over and jump out of my car. There are other helpers. Establishing that someone has called 911; I look to the bodies on the ground. “What can I do?” I ask the woman standing with one of the injured. She hesitantly sends me to a young man in the middle of the street, next to the broken car. He is so angry and I know trying to keep him still is going to be a chore. I keep talking to him. A woman who says she is a nurse comes running up, but barely inspects him and moves on. I keep talking with him and in what seems like decades, he finally calms and reaches out his hand. “Hold it.” He says.
I take his hand and he grabs mine fiercely; squeezing it in pulses which must match the pain criss-crossing his body. I let him know I won’t leave him until the paramedic gets to him. We sit like that as the amazing teams of first responders work like angels in the glow of headlights. I finally have to let go so the medic can assist him.
When I am cleared by the officers, I am shaken and the tears start to fall. We never stop making a difference. There is no age limit on when life starts or stops. Our heartbeats are in each and every minute no matter what is ahead of us. We can choose to u turn away and go a different path or we can find our way through the wreckage, hold a hand and see life in all it’s angst and beauty. See how that all blends together to enrich our lives in ways we can’t imagine.
No matter what lies ahead of me, an age, an accident, a hand to hold I want to carve substance into my existence every day of my life and stop thinking there is some sort of marker that defines that. We can make a difference in each moment regardless of what decade it is. After last night, I have no doubt that I will always walk into the wreckage and hold the hand of the person in need. Age isn’t a marker or a definition and I am going to stop measuring my life with it because there are so many moments to come and that is far greater than 140 days.
Until next time,
School has started. Enough said. Am I right? Whether you have kids in school or not if you live in the U.S., school starting changes traffic patterns, moods and daily life all the way around. And since my brain cannot function without examining the minutiae of everything, it started spinning and I thought this was as good a time as any to share the lessons that I have learned lately. As always, hopefully this helps someone else out there in this great big universe feel a little more normal – even though there is no such thing – and also maybe sharing will help my mind to stop spinning.
People who hurt act out.
Don’t start judging me already; I get that is a pretty logical statement. However, when violence strikes we aren’t really acting in a logical manner these days. Experience has taught me control is an illusion. We make choices based on the events that face us, and we can make good choices or bad, but life doesn’t change. That shit has been rough since the dawn of time. I mean there has always been violence, destruction, hate, and awful stuff in general.
We now have media everywhere we freaking look, so it seems so very overwhelming, but it isn’t different in itself. It really is same shit, different day. We have to start reacting to what happens to us better and also being better at proactively offering solutions before the problem hits. It isn’t an easy deal to solve; I get that. But just as violence stems from anger and pain; great change also comes from pain and reacting with love, patience, compassion, understanding. We are meant to share our stories.
Don’t get me wrong, when people are acting mean that is my biggest pet peeve. Rudeness crawls up my spine and causes me to throw up a little in my mouth every.single.time. I am human after all. As a human though, we are the starting point of change. That starts with compassion, sincerity, honesty, the giving of our time to others. These things can heal someone else. We must listen to one another’s story and whether we accept it as our truth or not, we need to hear each other and offer understanding. Only then can we start to really change things.
I recently watched Brené Brown speak about privilege so beautifully, I fear trying to even touch that topic without mentioning her description could not even do it justice. Privilege is something you are born with and do not have to earn; like finding people just like you on TV or finding a doll with your same color skin in any store you walk in. We as a people, we can change that.
Change is all based on reacting with compassion. We know better and should be making better choices. There is far more good in the world and those acting out right now fear the change that is coming. We got this people – good and compassion and faith – we got this. We always have. Don’t lose faith and continue to respond with an open heart, ear and mind and then change will come. We can heal one another one person at a time; one choice at a time; one compassionate action at a time.
Like the size of your life.
Some people choose big and lately that seems to be what our society is preaching and delivering. I choose simple. I choose small town everyday simple life. Simple, quiet beauty fills me up. I like the size of my life. I like it so much I am constantly trying to slow it down so I can soak it up with every fiber of my being. Somehow that never seems to work out; like sand it keeps slipping through my fingers.
There are advantages to playing small. Not many people write this down or preach it. Setting out each day to be a good human and do the simple, necessary things without a lot of hoopla; there is some real good in that. Doing what needs to be done every day without shouting look at me or tweeting it; instagram-ing it; Facebook-ing it; there is fullness in just the doing an act in and of itself.
Being who you are and doing the right thing when no one is looking means so much more than shouting it from the roof top. Choosing small, real simple life is wholesome stuff. It gives you time to really connect to those important to you. That is what really matters. The simple pleasures of homemade lemonade, family time, the view, and little love notes. Making a difference one person at a time in your every day ordinary life. I choose small. I choose simple. But whatever you choose; just like the size of your life.
Kids keep it real.
This one is just what it is. Kids see things simply and say what they feel. Mythirteen-year-old has told me twice in the past three months two things that have profoundly changed the way I look at things. It isn’t that no one has said this to me before, but it is the simplicity with how and when kids say things that just rock your world.
I had been worrying about work stuff and change and as I tuck my son in at night he says,”You know mom, all that stuff you have been talking about lately it really isn’t big stuff that matters. It is really kind of small stuff that shouldn’t bother you at all.” Well take that slap in the face! Yikes! He was right. That shifted my focus lickety-split.
Then just this week, first day of school. The twins are in two separate classes. I have to rush to get my thirteen-year-old to school and so I can’t stay and walk the twins into class. Every other child has a parent walking them into their class, but not my two. And just like that there is not just one set of class parents judging me as I speed off with my older son, but two sets of class parents and two sets of teachers. Talk about the weight of judgement. My older son notices this affect me. I tell him that I feel bad; he always had a parent walk him in and now the youngest are getting a less than experience because I am pulled in different directions. To which he says, “Mom, you put a lot of unrealistic expectations on yourself. The things you think you should do aren’t really humanly possible.” Touché! You got me kid.
Not that I haven’t heard this before, but there is something about your child pointing this out to you that just makes it sting and set it in a bit deeper. If you have experienced this lately; I get you; I hear you; this parenting gig is not for the faint of heart and your kids change you in ways you never expected. And on that note…
Pee protection is legit.
Not only does parenting take an emotional toll on you, but it also can wreck you physically. I am extremely tired of having to cross my legs to cough or sneeze. To have to stop jumping on the trampoline every five minutes so I can pee. Or to have to stop and pee when I run. Ridiculous! This seriously is not fair. Women give birth and carry these precious beings for 9 months and then we continue to love them despite the fact that they can push every single button and make us more upset and frustrated than we ever believed humanly possible, but NOW we also can’t even freaking sneeze without peeing ourselves. The injustice! The humanity! Good Lord why you got to do us like that?! WHY?! Okay, rant over. Just had to get that off my chest. Recently a friend recommends Poise pads because well the struggle is real and women around the world have this pee problem. The Poise pads help, they do. I just can’t stand putting one in my underwear every damn day. Blah! Blech! Ugh! But there is a solution and they do work; just in case you are wondering. Bottom line, getting older kind of sucks and I am still mostly just crossing my legs when I sneeze, but whatever – it is what it is.
Keep on plugging along peeps. Until next time,
“Were you able to determine how the baby died, then?”
“Actually,” the medical examiner says. “That’s more complicated than most people think. We medical geeks make a distinction between the way a person died and the actual change in the body that causes the termination of life.”
Small Great Things – Jodi Picoult
It is easy to poke holes in the messages spiritual mediums deliver. That is not lost on me. Their messages can be vague in some cases and seem to apply in a broad sense. There are exact details given, but spirit does not come forward and say…”Hi, I am Jim. I am Marge’s brother and I died in a car accident on December 12, 1982.” It is frustrating that this isn’t how spirit communication works. I have asked spirit why it doesn’t work this way at least a gazillion times.
“Why the heck do you make this so difficult?” I ask. Never a clear answer. This hasn’t stopped my brain from trying to piece together an answer that makes sense. The beautiful thing about spirit is that it will answer you; you just might have to pay close attention to what information you are given and have the patience to sort through it to find the answer.
As with all great realizations, it took time for me to discover why spirit communicates the way that they do. Okay, maybe all great realizations don’t take years to discover, some people have found the easy way and realizations happen via Google searches or by asking Siri a simple question. Unfortunately, Siri doesn’t ever answer my questions or understand them correctly for that matter. However, ironically Siri did help. Siri’s inability to understand my request to make a phone call led me to consider how Siri, a machine, translates human language. I mean I am speaking to a machine, after all. It doesn’t understand our language exactly. It is translating it and morphing it into a language it understands.
I mean Siri does say our own words back to us after all. Spirit should do the same, right? But, no that isn’t how spirit communication works. This is how some things work with Spirit. Sometimes I do hear and am able to pick up on exact phrases; whole conversation pieces. On the flip side; there is a ton of information that isn’t ever verbally communicated that I am able to pick up and have to decipher.
But this idea of Siri, Spirit and translation are still rattling around in my head as we head out across the Atlantic Ocean or pond, (I had to refer to it that way so that I wasn’t focused on being in a metal can thousands of feet above a vast ocean for HOURS to get there. I know, I know flying is safer than driving…yadda.yadda.yadda) to Ireland.
While in Ireland, our family had the opportunity to visit a Celtic Club where we learned how to play Irish Games – Hurling, Irish Football, and Handball. We were introduced to these games through a bit of Irish Culture because these games are a way that the Irish people preserve their Celtic Heritage. One of the things that I found illuminating in this brief overview of history was that there are no definite words for yes or no in true Gaelic Irish. There are as many shades of yes and no as there are shades of green across the Emerald Isle. Isn’t that a truly wonderful thing that there are shades of yes and no? Some people like definite, I like the shades of color and variance, open possibilities. The example below from a blog on mindfloss demonstrates an example of how questions are answered with out yes or no directly:
I started thinking about how words translate from language to language and it occurred to me that being a medium is like being a type of translator. It’s funny that the idea of mediumship being simple translation didn’t occur to me until now. But there it is. Spirit speaks soul and as with any language, translations aren’t exact. Soul is going to have shades and variances that English, Spanish, French, Greek, Gaelic Irish or any other human language might not be able to capture. So of course, spirit isn’t going to come forward and say, “Hi, I am Mary Lawson. I lived 58 years and died of ovarian cancer.” Those are our spoken words. Spirit will have a whole other set of words to describe that experience.
When spirit speaks they try to exude their personality, show the way they looked and share other vibrant characteristics because in the language of soul, that is their name. Duh! I don’t know why it took my so long to see that. And if I were to describe myself to someone the last thing I would use would be my name. I would tell them about me. Yes, we might say our name, but it doesn’t describe who we are, we are more than a name. Especially a soul; it is so much more vast than just a single name.
Our names often mean something or stand for something and spirit may try to describe that instead because that represents more about them than just the name. For example, Briana means strength. So Briana’s soul may come through demonstrating strength and exuding her character rather than simply saying, “I am Briana.” Granted, I get why this would be easier and better for the scientific community, and for our human brains to understand, but this makes perfect sense to me. I have spent years trying to make sense of why and how spirit communicates the way it does and have had little else stand out as a better answer. This right here makes some solid sense.
An additional puzzle piece to solving this riddle came when I was reading Jodi Picoult’s, Small Great Things. A must read by the way. My fave book of summer. While reading, I came across the quote I opened the blog with and wham-o, brilliance like lightning can strike multiple times and often has to, to sink into this thick skull, there it was again a difference in perception and translation.
For soul, the reason the body stops working isn’t translated exactly to what we might determine as cause of death. It is like the fictional character describes, “We medical geeks make a distinction between the way a person died and the actual change in the body that causes the termination of life.” So does soul. They don’t use the actual words, “heart attack”, “Alzheimer’s”, “Parkinson’s”, “car accident”, etc. They give me the feelings that their body experienced and how their body stopped working and then I have to use those items, just like a medical examiner would, to determine what I think cause of death might have been.
So often a soul tells me that their heart stopped or that they had pressure on their chest and had difficulty getting enough air, they had a mass in their body that spread, they were just plain exhausted, or even their heart was in so much pain they could not continue on in life. The focus for the soul is on the change in the body that caused the termination of life. Which of course makes sense because the body stopped working and the soul had to leave the body behind. A soul isn’t dead. A soul is still living, so it’s not going to say how it died; it didn’t die. Souls refer to themselves as alive.
We often expect spirit to communicate in our human languages and often knock mediums because spirit doesn’t communicate the way we expect it to. That needs to change. Spirit speaks soul. Spirits are no longer attached to a brain that translates their language into words we understand. They are doing the best they can to speak to a medium – soul translator – to help the living understand souls and what life is like without a body.
Spirit speaks soul. A language with a culture, tradition, and history older than time itself – literally. The words soul uses do not have direct translations to human word. We have to change our construct and expectations of how information is transmitted from spirit to human. Soul is emotion based. Soul is intuition. Soul is how faith feels.
All this time I have tried to define a spiritual medium in a way that makes sense to me and it comes down to this: a spiritual medium is a person who speaks soul. Spiritual mediums are able to understand soul enough to translate the messages they receive into human language. They do the best they can, but of course translations are going to be off from time to time. Of course signals can get crossed. For a medium it really is like communicating across radio waves.
Think about it this way, does your satellite radio lose its signal from time to time? Does your power or cable go out? Yup. Yep. Yeppers. Being a medium isn’t much different from that. They are translating one language to another across radio-like signals trying to help people and soul communicate so that they know they are not ever lost to one another. Don’t blame the medium or criticize their efforts; a great deal of solid information is translated clearly, but it isn’t always exact; no fault to either communicating party. They are all doing the best they can.
My hope is that in understanding that soul and humans speak two different languages that humans start to better understand soul and those who speak it fluently. In truth, we all speak soul, most of us have just forgotten how. The more you try the more fluent you become. And I say, don’t knock it until you try it.
Until next time,
It’s a Tuesday and I don’t even know where to start. There is just so much, too many feels to hold inside my body.
On the surface and mostly, life is good; really, really good.
And yet; there has been something missing lately.
Again don’t get me wrong the plusses in my life are major. For example, being a mom is my favorite and it is all I ever wanted to be. But my first world problems start when I think ahead. My oldest turns 13 in less than two weeks. I turn 40 in 6 months. What is next for me? What do I do when they are grown? I am technically an adult so what do I want for the rest of my life? Do I keep the job I have for the next 20 years? Do I practice what I preach and follow my dreams?
Answers always come. Once you let the universe know what your heart desires the answers come.
There are no coincidences. Everything happens on purpose – there may not be a reason, but there is purpose even if it doesn’t make sense; even if it’s not fair, there is purpose.
How does all this rambling connect? Well, let me share with you a bit about my past week.
This past week I was in LA for work and we had to introduce ourselves by sharing a hidden talent. Should be easy, no problem right. Well my hidden talent can be seen as adverse or cray-cray. This type of professional setting made it feel unsafe to share mine. But in my heart, this just felt wrong and it left a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach I just couldn’t shake for the next several days.
When I started writing this blog and started my journey to my most authentic self it was to break down walls and live out loud. I am tired of hiding; even if it is part-time. I don’t want to be in a place where I can’t be myself any more. In the life I want for myself I don’t have to keep the biggest part of who I am under wraps. But in reality, I am. That is how I live right now. I know I share here, and in my town, but I go to work and am a totally different person with most people. I stay quiet and keep my head down and just try to get through each day. Accounting, sales and marketing are my day job. Me and numbers; I can hear you laughing through the internet. But I get it, I totally get it.
So with the weight of hiding weighing on my mind, I sent a call out to God; a prayer to the universe: Show me the way. What should I do next? And then I wait because that is what you do. You wait and watch, and maintain your steady path until you hear back otherwise.
As we drove home from LA, we passed 3 different psychic studios (not that I am a psychic by any means) but still it is in the same wheelhouse if we are being technical. It felt like an answer that time and time again I would feel drawn to look up and nearby there was a literal sign for a psychic.
As sign after sign passed it made me feel like the universe and God were whispering back (okay slapping me in the face) take the leap; JUMP. And as the great Ron Swanson says, “Never half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing.” Thank you, thank you Parks and Rec; Amy Poehler and cast you make my days complete.
Right now, I am not whole-assing anything. I am half-assing a lot of things and not doing a great job. I am hanging on and it seems grand, I am sure to those outside looking in, but really something is missing and there is too much going on, to do one thing well.
I think it is just about time to make a big change. It’s what the universe and God are telling me, too. To do something about following this dream of mine. And I did meet Amy Poehler…’s star on the way home from LA so anything is possible, right? I mean really, we are going to meet one day and she is going to love me, I just know it! I even visited Beverly Hills for the first time and sat in the bar of the Beverly Wilshire and had a cocktail. I mean come on; I am meant for greatness right? That and two different clients texted me the same week to tell me that multiple people referred them to me and one even said I was famous and couldn’t believe I was coming to her house. WALK of FAME watch out I am coming for you! Am I right? Okay, okay I am humble, I promise. I wouldn’t be here writing about choices if I wasn’t.
Seriously though; I think it’s time to wrap up this journey of mine in a nice little bow and take that final leap and love who I am; my whole-self and truly live out loud. Be who I am where-ever and whenever. No need to hide that I speak to spirit. I have faith. I trust spirit and I trust God. That is enough and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. God has crazy mad love for me and I should love myself that much, too. So, I think it’s just about time to make a change.
I am over here sitting on the edge, looking down and out and contemplating taking that leap while the universe keeps whispering, “jump.” It’s not a matter of if any more; it’s just a matter of when.
Until next time or until I jump whichever comes first,
“If there is no peace, it is because we have forgotten we belong to one another.”
— Mother Teresa
It has been a month or so ago now, but I had a client send a question that I thought you may have stumbled across as well. Sharing it here, with you, felt right.
This client reached out to me because she had been chided on her Instagram account for sharing a spiritual experience. We will call her Monica. Monica received a sign from spirit and she also had a reading that helped her realize that these signs were possible. Someone commented on Monica’s post using Leviticus as a reference basically stating she couldn’t be a good Christian if she sought the services of a medium.
The verse the commenter used was,
“Do not turn to mediums or necromancers; do not seek them out, and so make yourselves unclean by them: I am the Lord your God.”- Leviticus 19:31
Monica asked how I dealt with things like this when they happened to me or if I had advice for her.
This has no easy answer and maybe there is no answer at all. I prayed on it for some time and one thing is for sure, I know I am not here to debate the Bible. That is definitely not my place. I won’t even begin to try. I can share some important things that mediumship and life have taught me, though. Some of what I shared with Monica, I will share here with you today in case you have wondered about this dilemma yourself.
Here are some of the important things.
The important thing about life and faith is that we all get to make our own decisions.
The important thing about a relationship with God, the Universe, etc. is that it is between you and God and no one else.
For me personally, the important thing about my mediumship gift is that it has brought me closer to God. I hear Him crisper and clearer than ever before. That can’t be a bad thing.
The important thing about answers is we don’t have all the answers and we might not ever in our lifetime.
There is bad in everything, but the important thing is, there is way more good in everything. It is all perspective.
The important thing about grace is that we should offer it to ourselves and others.
The important thing about what other people think about us is none of our business.
When people try to steal our light, our joy, the important thing is that we recognize and acknowledge it and then do not let them take that from us.
I try my best to live with a Jesus heart and a deep faith in the Lord. I hear His voice in my heart and it guides me to the next best choice. He knows my heart better than anyone else and the important thing is that is what matters. The good news is that goes for you, too.
At the end of the day it doesn’t matter what other people think, do your best, you won’t have all the answers, but offer yourself and others grace in finding your way because we belong to one another; that’s the important thing.
Until next time,
” I can dream when the lights are out.”
– Peter H. Reynold
Do you ever have days when you feel like everything is going so right and you are on top of the world? You might even whistle to yourself a little bit and you suddenly feel a little like Mary Poppins with the birds whistling back at you?
Now do you ever feel the opposite? Like the odds are stacked against you and if it can go wrong it will? Like every little thing is just a little off kilter and you swear that somewhere the Wicked Witch of the West has ordered her flying monkeys to wreak havoc on your life?
For the past 30 plus days my life has been much more like the scenario described in the second paragraph. Now don’t get me wrong, I know most of my problems are first world and less severe than most, but I still feel beyond overwhelmed and we have to feel the feelings to get through them; so here I am…opening up my big mouth to the internet when I should be folding laundry instead.
Over the past 30 or so days, there have been a great deal of tears. Some have been joyful of course. But there are others that have left streaks of sorrow down my cheeks. There has also been a great deal of hearty laughter, too. So many moments in motherhood where I have been connected to each one of my children deeply; having the magical opportunity to witness their heart and mind as they discover new meaning and wonder in the world.
And there have been moments of anger. Boiling, steaming, piping hot anger that has bubbled up in me in ways I thought I had long outgrown. Venomous words have spewed out of my being with so much distaste I haven’t even recognized them as my own.
These emotions, I have come to understand, are the visible signs of my soul being broken, fissured and reshaped. A current, I believe, that has astrological roots.
So how did that all start, this astrological roots idea? Well, I feel that I have been led to some interesting places lately with what has been put in front of me to read. I am reading One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp, Happy Dreamer by Peter H. Reyolds, and this blog post by James Van Praagh.
These things, like all else, were placed in my path for this moment.
Ann has spoken to me deeply through her book, but one story she relays sticks out in my mind and I keep coming back to it. She writes of a sermon that her preacher gave when she was young that had to do with Jacob wrestling with God. Now Jacob does not know he is wrestling with God, only that he is wrestling with a man in the dark. It is only at the end near dawn when Jacob is touched by the man on the sinew of his thigh and it is broken with that one small touch that Jacob realizes he has been wrestling with God. He knows this because the sinew of the thigh is the strongest place in the human body and it is broken with barely a touch. Only God has power like that. What Ann remembers her preacher telling the segregation is that, “The Lord has to break us down at the strongest part of our self-life before He can have His own way of blessing us.” He has to break us sometimes. It is in being broken that we can be built up again. It is said that Jacob always walked with a limp after that battle for our broken-ness may leave its mark as a reminder of where we were and how far we have come.
And then the Happy Dreamer calls out to me from a School Book Fair shelf and I instantly fall in love. As I hit the pages about dreaming in darkness, I am reminded that God calls us into the dark; God asks us to bring out light to the places where it is needed most and often that is to a place where it seems dark and scary to us. We are led there any way. Sometimes breaking us open reveals our own dark, scary places and we can bring light to those once they are brought to the surface.
And last, but not least, James Van Praagh writes about three different planets being in retrograde. Retrograde just means that these planets appear to moving in a backward or opposite motion to their natural pattern in the sky. And one of those planets just calls out to me a bit more and as I begin researching. And in an instant it makes perfect sense why all has started to unravel and why it is of course a universal, cosmic occurrence. God is in ALL things and so of course, it would be the universe creating this energetic disturbance in my otherwise calm life. And it is no surprise that Saturn being in retrograde is apparently a big deal for me as a Capricorn. Saturn rules Capricorn and Aquarius. Saturn is the planet of limitations and discipline. It is in retrograde from April 6th through August 25th of this year. What this means is during this time if I work against things that I am bumping up against with force then I will experience discomfort. If I slow down and work according to the big picture and resolve my lessons then I will be rewarded, but I can not rush or push my own agenda. I must slowly and steadily do the work.
All of these things have stirred me to be more introspective and mindful. God is at work in the universe and in me.
I am off tilt on purpose because I am fighting to gain some control and the upper hand. I have forgotten to express gratitude and to show it with my actions, by taking the time to do and appreciate the things that matter. By remembering that it is God that is at the helm. Not me.
So instead of feeling spiteful and irritated for having been broken; I instead need to be grateful that the Lord saw fit to build me back up. To reshape my pieces into something fit to move to the next phase of my life. He is giving me the opportunity to learn the lesson of connection and patience, again. Again. Again. Again. And it is patient parenting of the self that guides us to where we need to be.
So as I find myself feeling off tilt and broken; I am reminding myself to breathe, slow down, focus on what matters. I am finding the still quiet so that I can coax my intuitive voice to take charge again. God wired my internal compass so it cannot guide me astray, not ever. Not even when it leads me into the dark, with no flashlight, and no instructions. For I am not lost, we are always arriving. Always on our way.
We are God. God is in us. Our souls have been given everything they need to work through what transpires in this life. We are on the intended path. We will find our way, agian and again and again, and always.
And when you feel lost along the way just remember, as Ann Voskamp did. “[h]ow did Jesus do it again? He looked up to heaven to where this moment came from.” We just need to remember to look up. Find Him and be grateful. Find Him and ask to be led. Realize that the only control we have is in how we react and perceive what is laid before us on our path.
We are only human. We will feel these emotions and naturally lament our pains and grievances. Do not be too hard on yourself for what comes easier to each of us. But to find peace and find your way through look up. Breathe in the blessings and exhale with humble gratitude. Release what ails you and instead look to how it can be a blessing, a teaching moment that will shed light into your soul and reshape it to accept abundance and grace.
And if all else fails hang on best you can until August 25th. We can make it through. Together we will get there.
Don’t forget to look up,
Earthquakes shake through the foundation of our lives. They just do. They aren’t planned and you can’t escape them. It reminds me a bit of the book Going on a Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen. In the book, the family goes looking for a bear and they encounter long wavy grass, a deep cold river, thick oozy mud, a big dark forest, a swirling whirling snowstorm, a narrow gloomy cave, and they end up finally finding the bear and they race back through everything they encountered to end up safe and cozy at home. Each obstacle they meet, they have to go through them; they can’t go over, under or around, they MUST go through.
Just in case you want to hear the book you can listen to it below…
Life is just like that. We encounter obstacles all along the way and sometimes, most times, we have to go through them instead of over, around or under.
To me that is our lives day in and day out. We go out into the world through every obstacle, face our biggest challenges and then run right back through those obstacles to get to the safety of our cozy little homes only to do it all again the next day. Thankfully, I have a cozy, little home; some of us don’t even have that luxury. There is no safe place to land for some of us.
About two weeks ago, an announcement was made that shook my foundation to the point where the Earth opened up and a huge fissure was made. It was one of those life changes where events prior will be referred to as before and events occurring from now on will be referred to as after. The scary part for me this time is that I didn’t end up on the part of the Earth on the after side of things right away. I started falling right down that fissure. This event knocked me off my foundation in a way that I didn’t land right away.
You know the feeling. You hear some news and right away you just feel like you got on one of those rides like the Tower of Terror at Disneyland and you are free-falling. Your stomach reaches up into your throat and you just want to land. But somehow you don’t. There is this up and down motion as you travel through the ride and you just aren’t quite sure when it will stop and you will safely be on solid footing again. That is how I felt the past two weeks.
I guess if I am being honest, I still feel like that a bit, but the ride is losing momentum so hopefully I am nearing solid footing once again.
This event reminded me once again how little control we have over life. Life is a ride. We are born into it and there may be twists and turns where we can make certain life choices; like who is on the ride with us or what kind of track the ride will have, for instance bumpy or smooth, we might have some input. But, many times the track is decided for us. We can only choose how we react. Do we buckle up and enjoy the ride or kick and scream, beg and plead, and demand a refund?
Most times, I think it is human nature when life takes a turn we don’t like to whine a little bit. But the best way through it is to assess the situation, make the best of it and buckle up for the bumpy parts and enjoy what you can of the ride.
Life is going to happen to us. It just is. We can only choose how we react to it as the ride moves us forward. That is the only control that we have.
For me, the best thing I can do is sit back, make sure the buckle is fastened and enjoy the view and make the best I possibly can of the roller coaster ride of life.
And what a view it is…
Hope you are surviving your roller coaster of a life, too.
Until next time,
This is a story that is told multiple times a week. Details are omitted to scrunch it into the allotted time. It is the story I tell before each reading; the story of how I got started doing readings for other people. I want to share it here in its entirety because I think just once it needs to be written down with all the details in place.
It was a regular day like any other. I was in grad school and had made a great friend. The kind that you meet and you already feel like you have known each other a hundred years. We had most of our classes together. We talked about lots of things; I had my first child in grad school and she had been teaching longer than I; married longer than I. She always had the best advice; but one day our conversation turned to one of her students. A student that had leukemia. An eight-year-old little boy whom she tutored. I had no idea when we started talking about Matthew the impact he would have on my life.
As my friend shared her worries and experience with Matthew and his family, I shared more about my gift with her. Opening something inside of myself I had held so close. Trying to share what little wisdom I had to bring comfort to the unthinkable situation that was facing this family, facing Matthew.
Matthew gained his angel wings in July of 2007.
A few months later my friend told me that I should share my gift with this family. That they needed my help.
Crazy town; I told her. Crazy people do things like that. I didn’t think I could help and I was sure that if I did everyone would think I was crazy. No one can talk to spirits for real. The things that happened to me were just random and I wasn’t about to do them out loud in front of the world. I played small and it suited me just fine. I had a sweet little life at this point. Two kids and a new job; I was moving forward into my sweet, quiet life comfortably.
So, I told her no. I thought that would be the end of it.
Sometimes you don’t hear when God is laughing at you. Chuckling at the notion that you think you have some control over what you are meant to do.
God and Matthew had different plans for me. Matthew was helping Him put those plans into motion.
Matthew began to show up everywhere. He was in my car; my kitchen, woke me up at night because I kept having the same dream. I would reach out for a tombstone that wasn’t there and carved into the rock were symbols I didn’t recognize. Each night I would trace them with my finger drawing symbols into a phantom tombstone.
Finally, I asked Matthew what he wanted. He had a family that loved him, why in the world was he spending all this time around me?
He asked me to talk to his mom. He asked me to help his family. Said he had something for his sister and turned into a butterfly and fluttered away.
God knew if He sent me a child I would listen. God knew if He sent me a small boy that I would say yes. That with shaky legs, sweaty hands and my stomach in knots I would drive 40 miles into unknown territory and try to help this boy reunite with his family.
Arriving made everything worse. Encountering the eyes of this mother and father who had lost half their hearts and a whole child to Heaven was almost unbearable. What if this didn’t work? What if I was crazy? What if I just heard and saw things that didn’t really exist? I started praying in my head like a crazy woman. Dear God, please let me help this family. God please let this bring them some comfort. God please let this be real. God please don’t let this family down.
It took a good twenty minutes to get comfortable. Twenty minutes of small talk and looking at a few pictures. Matthew showed up right away, but I had never seen energy move so fast. I couldn’t slow him down enough to hear what he was saying. And then something shifted.
I started to hear him clear as day. I started to see him in his blue striped shirt and the wide grin expand across his face. He told his family about things he did in the house to let them know he was around. He described the item that he was buried with since I would have no idea what it was or how to pronounce what it was called. Matthew relayed to me the item he wanted his sister to have. He shared things he hoped for his family and wanted for the future.
We drove to his grave because of my dream. I had chills over my whole body as I stepped into the reality of that dream. Stepped into a solid, tangible reality I had only seen in dreams. I explained to them about the symbols Matthew wanted on his tombstone. His dad drew multiple samples on a napkin; skeptical trying to prove this was really happening; only one set of symbols represented what I had verbalized to them. Without hesitation, I pointed to the second set of symbols. The ones I had traced into stone night after night in my dream. Those were the ones. The ones Matthew wanted on his stone.
Then a little dog showed up and of course it had been theirs. Of course, that dog was with their son playing chase and being a constant companion.
That day changed my life. That day put me on a course with God’s plan for me. It unfurled my path; a path I had refused to step onto for 15 years.
When I was fifteen a line of spirits formed around me. A line. They would reach out one by one; tell me I was going to help them and I would shake it off. It couldn’t be. How could I tell people out loud this is me? I talk to dead people, seriously? I couldn’t handle the criticism. I wasn’t ready.
I wasn’t ready that day either and it would be about five years after this first reading for strangers that I would help other people out loud. Matthew never gave up. He would visit from time to time and nudge me down this path. Encourage me to keep the channels open; to pay attention to spirit.
When I first started giving readings he would be there with me. Cheering me on. Letting me know I was right where I was supposed to be. Eventually he handed those reigns off to my loved ones, but from time to time he still peeks in; still says hello with that wide grin across his face and his head tilted slightly to the right. Always dressed in the latest trends and his jet-black hair just a bit spiky in front. It always makes me smile.
Matthew helped me get to where I am today. Matthew taught me how to listen. He helped me understand how this gift would work. Reaffirmed that as much as I am here to help the living that I work for spirit. That I am here to translate the messages of spirit to their families. When I give a reading I always let spirit lead. Spirit starts with their agenda, their messages; and those messages may not always be what their loved one may want to hear, but without fail they are always what their loved one needs to hear. Without fail loved ones end up finding a way to make sense out of the words and pictures that spirit gives to me. Spirit finds a way to make me feel both physically and emotionally what they want me to translate. God always leading the way; allowing this miracle.
I hope that what I do; that each reading pays Matthew back somehow. That he knows that this is how I say thank you. That I am forever grateful for his determination and patience. That it is not lost on me that a boy, not yet nine, changed my life in such a profound and wonderful way. Thank you, Matthew and thank you sweet family who welcomed me into their lives unsure of what that day would hold. Thank you all for changing my life and being the first step on my journey. Thank you for sharing your son with me and with the world.
I should have walked today. The past few months I have been working up my stamina; getting back into shape, counting calories. I think it’s working. Sunday I ran a 10K. Okay, I jogged 5+ miles of a 10K and walked the rest. The next day I ran another 5K and the day after that I walked/jogged another 3 miles. Yesterday my body needed a rest and so I walked a bit, but didn’t run. Okay jog. Semantics; shemantics. Well the day after that ended with a note sent home regarding my youngest that sent me into fiery mama bear mode and the day’s mode didn’t change much so while I stepped well there wasn’t much walking and peaceful calm in my attitude.
Today the universe seemed to know I needed to balance out yesterday and responded with a calm, stillness. I settled into that stillness in full gear; Uggs, sweatpants, and my favorite cozy sweatshirt. I hunkered down into work, reading, laundry, writing, and the small, even goodness of my life.
Plus I don’t do “shoulds” any more. There isn’t a place for them in my life any more.
My life fills me up and I thank God for that daily.
All the little moments…the smiles of my children, the way their hair smells after a shower, the unique ways they greet me at the end of a school day. My heart fills with the stories they tell, surprising my husband with 14 gifts for our 14 married years together. The coziness of my home, my clothes. The simple pleasures of a good cup of coffee, the way cold ice water quenches a thirst so completely. Or the smell of fresh-cut grass, a sunny day, a breeze that carries a hint of jasmine. Sweet, encouraging text messages from friends. You know all the little things that make you feel whole, complete.
There is a stability, a solidness that I feel in my soul on days like today. I wasn’t spinning in different directions, reeling from an act of unkindness, or torn in a thousand directions by a barrage of requests. Regardless if my day is still like today or chaotic like other days, my life fills me up. This life is greater than I ever imagined. I am so grateful for each second and so grateful for all the little things that make my cup run over.
To good days and full hearts. Until next time,