Fridays are usually my kids favorite days. No homework means straight up fun all afternoon. After the first full week of school I thought my kids would be stoked that Friday afternoon had finally arrived.
All seemed good in the car. Of course my momdar (mom + radar) should have gone off when my daughter asked, “Do you like my outfit?” five minutes into our car ride home.
By the time we arrived home and kids piled out of the car, tears were streaming down her face. “What happened?” I asked; still not putting two and two together.
After a long hug and a few sobs she tells me that a girl said to her, “What are you wearing? Seriously, if you had just changed the bottom of that outfit maybe it would have been okay.”
Fury. White-hot anger. Pain. Hurt. All this washes over me for her. As that simmers to a calm, I try to clean away this comment that will forever leave a stain. Nothing I say can completely erode the hurt from her heart. I know from experience. Whoever said, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” was a full-fledged dreamer and a stone cold liar.
We talk about responses for next time because apparently this girl thinks everyone needs to hear her opinion no matter what it is. My girl is finally calm and she decides to change her clothes. And even though we move past that hurtful moment, it sits with me still when my eyes pop open at 6 AM Saturday morning.
Kids say hurtful things. Adults say hurtful things.
I feel that I am doing my part for humanity to teach my children that if something isn’t helpful, kind, or necessary that maybe that little piece of information is better left unsaid. We talk about the Golden Rule at least 10 times a day. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you – or in our speak – treat others how you want to be treated.
But…will mean ever never stop?
Hurt people; hurt people. People who feel low and little feel the path to rise up is through stealing someone else’s power.
Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” This quote is embroidered into my soul.
Children learn to speak by listening to those around them. I hear the words I say spill from my children’s lips.
I have heard people say that parents cannot be blamed for how their children behave. I have heard moms excuse away mean behavior with “kid will be kids”.
If we don’t teach them, if we don’t take responsibility for who they become then who will? What will ever change?
I know what occurred Friday isn’t the first or last time that something like this will happen. Heck, I am an adult and I still face these challenges and comments from other adults! What hurts my heart more deeply is that this happens to all of us. That our world still has people in it that find excuses for hate – they hide behind religion, race, history or whatever excuse they can find to eradicate the simple fact that each of us alone is responsible for what we bring to the table. It comes down to the individual and if you can hurl a hate-filled slur at another human it has nothing to do with anything but your own bad behavior. There is no excuse you can hide behind. Your poor choices and actions stand alone. No circumstance, no religion, no difference, nothing defends that action. You hurt another human. That is all.
We need to teach our children that simple fact. We are the same. Despite our exterior and cultural differences, we are the same. We all have a heart. We all want love. We all need the human basics – water, food, etc. Treat one another with respect. Do not hurt another person. It should just be that simple.
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.
At 8 AM; I wiped the sleep off my face, downed the last of my chai latte, said my typical pre-reading prayer and called a new client on the other side of the United States. Even after four years and a lifetime of experience, I still get nervous. My faith is deep and wide and true, but there is still a small part of me that hopes all goes well each and every time.
The reading that took place this early Sunday morning was one of my all time favorites. The sitter (my client), was nervous, and had been anxiously awaiting this appointment for months. We got started with the what to expect mumbo jumbo and spirit started to speak.
Spirit is so unpredictable. They come through with their unique personalities full of love and hope. It still surprises me how much laughter happens during a typical reading. Spirit has waited ages to speak through the microphone of a medium to get messages through to their loved ones. And once that connection is made it is like years of healing take place in under an hour. It’s a miracle. There are no words that accurately capture what happens in that hour; and yet here I am trying to find a way to impart some wisdom and capture what happened in this particular session.
This reading, I still don’t have a better word for these spirit interactions, brought so much out of my client. She like me is intuitive and had spent years ignoring or down playing her intuition because other people didn’t understand the way she made decisions, how she knew things without having any access to the information prior to an event or “knowing moment”.
It filled me with sadness that we aren’t recognizing these talents on a wide level. I know we don’t always understand it and logic rules the western world – don’t get me wrong logic is important, but so is a healthy dose of intuition.
Take for example, a mother and her infant. A worried mom bring her infant to the doctor because she “knows” something is not right. The doctor is not seeing that there is anything physiologically wrong with said infant, but the mother knows that there is. She is adamant that her child is suffering. She demands more tests, second opinions and lo and behold her baby has a severe case of acid reflux or Lyme or food allergies. Our society tells moms to trust their instincts. My friends these instincts are intuition.
My long winding point is intuition is getting a bad wrap and we need to trust that spidy-sense we get deep in our stomach that makes us feel like something is off or like something is just right. It is okay that we can’t explain it more than – it just feels right! That should be enough.
We ask our children to trust the feeling that if someone makes you uncomfortable in any way to physically change your proximity to that person and not ever be alone with them. Or at least I do and we should all trust our feelings even when they don’t make logical sense.
Intuition is our soul sending messages to our brain. It is trying to give us information when logic may not be enough or even when logic is failing us and we need to know the truth another way. Through the reading I had that Sunday morning this all becomes apparent. Spirit was validating my client’s feelings and telling her to listen to her intuition, it is her soul speaking. And I am reminded in this small session with her just how important that is for our safety, sanity and happiness.
How does one listen to their intuition or even find it in the first place? It is feeling all the feels. When you make a choice, become conscious of how your body reacts to that choice and then just keep practicing. Does the choice leave you a little off center? Does the choice make you a bit tingly all over and excited about what is coming next? Do you get a deep sense of calm thourought your being after you have made that decision? The more aware you are of how you feel the more likely you are to pay attention to these feelings.
Intuition can be practiced by entering a room and seeing how your emotions and body react to that space. The people you are with; how do you feel about them? What does your body naturally do around those people. If you are tense, there is probably a reason. If you easily relax; there is probably a reason.
Sometimes there is not a peep from intuition to guide you any one way and that is because logic is enough. You have it all figured out. Intuition steps up its game when it is trying to get you to see another perspective or make you take that big leap you are so hesitant to take.
When your soul is whispering to your conscious mind that is intuition and it has a place in our lives. It can keep you out of trouble and lead you into the right place at the right time. When we ignore intuition, our lives seem to be missing something.
Intuition has led me to so much success. Logic alone would not have led me down my current path. Intuition makes us a bit vulnerable which can be scary. Intuition often leaves us without explanation for our actions other than, “it just feels right”. I know some of you don’t need to hear this, but those of you that do, “it just feels right” is enough – no more explanation needed.
Our intuition is enough and it does us good to be in touch with how our soul is interpreting our surroundings and not just our mind. They are two separate things; sometimes they work in concert, but other times your soul wants something your mind can’t quite grasp and that is when intuition takes over. Let it. It doesn’t have to be what wins out, but intution should at least be considered and trusted as a valid part of our daily lives and how it guides us through our experiences. It is our soul speaking to us after all.
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 BrenéBrown 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.
“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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
If you were to meet me or see me out and about after just knowing me from my blog I think you would be surprised. I am the girl who stands away from the crowd. I am the one who doesn’t speak up. The first to arrive and the first to leave a party. And if you do get close enough; if you do get in I find myself making sure there is distance…sliding just a little out of reach.
It’s not that I am afraid of anyone seeing me; really seeing me. I don’t ever hide anything about myself anymore and what people think doesn’t keep me awake at night either; I barely give it a second thought, but I think it is knowing that if I do let you in that there is the possibility of hurt. The hurt that comes when someone I would like as a friend may decide I am not worth keeping. I don’t know; maybe it’s just the introvert in me. Needing distance. Needing space.
There are people who I trust. People who are my safe landing-place. I have lost friends like these in the past; the relationship falling out from under my feet. No ledge to cling to, just dropping and flailing after being on stable ground. Maybe that’s the feeling I am trying to avoid.
Or maybe it is that lately, I wonder if some people want to know the real me or the medium me. Knowing a medium is interesting; knowing a small town girl who stands in the corner; not so much.
I don’t know why I keep the distance or add it to a relationship. I don’t know why my default is run, but it is. If something goes wrong I shut down. I hide away and avoid confrontation; unless it is about my kids then I will speak up. That mama bear instinct triggers my temper and I can say things I normally wouldn’t. Other than that I am the girl who likes to hide in plain sight. I am most comfortable there. In view, but not attracting attention.
As we have settled in this small town over the last six years there are people who I have grown to love. I love them something fierce. Maybe that’s what makes me keep my distance, being afraid how much I love them will scare them away. So instead I try to act lukewarm so they don’t think I am too overboard with affection.
I know I have written here about letting that love shine and just scooping people up, and I do try to do that, but my default kicks back in and I create a distance. Distance becomes my security blanket.
Writing my thoughts out here I thought might untangle them and make them clear. Maybe it will, maybe this is just the beginning to unravelling them. Maybe I am just supposed to accept this about myself and the people who accept it become my tribe; make up my safe landing-place. But part of me wants to be not so far in the corner, just a little more out in front. A part of me wants to embrace those I love with full force. Maybe I will and my default will change. Maybe I thought I had already changed my default.
There are moments when I am alone with my thoughts and usually that is a good thing, but sometimes my mind starts to stir with worry. Usually I am pretty good about focusing back in on the present. I know it isn’t healthy to live in the past or too far in the future, but to focus right here in the present. But today my mind wandered to my family. I started to think about my grandparents. Missing them, but that turned my thoughts toward my own future.
Both of my grandmothers had strokes and Alzheimer’s. My mom’s mom had early onset Alzheimer’s and for twelve years she lived with this disease. It struck right at the onset of her retirement; just after all 6 kids were out and on their own. I know it could not have been easy for her. But what I know more than anything is that it would have hurt her so much more to see those she loved in pain. She put everyone else before herself. She was selfless and kind. She was one of the best women I have ever known.
When we had the twins she had already passed and I longed to call her and ask her how she maintained her sanity with six kids. I only had four and I felt like I was barely holding it together. I wanted her advice so badly.
As fate would have it, I I did get the chance to ask my grandfather about her; about how she managed to keep it all together raising six kids the last time I saw him. The twins weren’t even in the picture yet, but somehow I had the wherewithal to ask. He told me he would get home from work and without saying anything she would just go get in the car and drive. He laughed as he said it. He said he always wondered if she would come home.
So there were days as the twins were older about 18 months, Brian would get home and I would just get in the car and drive. Drive and pray to her that I was doing enough; pray for her guidance to watch over me as a parent. To help me through. To know if she lost her cool, to see if she had tricks and tips on how she split herself into so many directions. I wanted to raise my kids to be as kind, honest, and loving as she had raised hers to be.
During this time I dyed my hair dark brown because I didn’t want to have to color it as much. After seeing me a few times, my aunt told me how much I reminded her of my grandma, that having my hair darker I even kind of looked like her. Well if that wasn’t just the greatest compliment I could ever receive!
Over the past six years, I have had some medical hiccups. They can’t pin point any one thing to be wrong, but my whole body is out of whack and we are still trying to figure it out. About six months ago, a growth started on my nose.
The growth turned out to be noncancerous, it is what young children and infants have – we always called them strawberry birthmarks. The technical term is hemangioma and it is a noncancerous collection of blood vessels. It is rare in adults. My grandmother had a growth on her nose that was removed, my mom said she would have likely been my age. I remembered the zigzagged white scar she hated so much, but that I loved because it was a part of her. Sure enough it most likely was the same type of growth.
Thinking about her today, I wondered that if I am like her I have sixteen years until early onset. Sixteen years of a life of remembering. I don’t want my family to see that. I don’t want them to have to take care of me like that. So I started praying to her again. To God. Please don’t let my family suffer that fate, please give them more time. Don’t make them have to watch that. Don’t make my parents have to watch that again. How awful that would be. I know that I can endure anything, but I don’t want that for them. I have seen it and I don’t want that for them.
As soon as I said my last word of my prayer a white fluffy feather floated past my windshield at the stop sign. I thought there is no way that is a sign even though I have started finding feathers like that recently, still I shrugged it off. The next stop sign there was a hummingbird that hovered above my car. My dad’s dad always sends hummingbirds. The next stop sign a blue jay flew right in front of my car from one tree to the next. My other grandmother sends me blue jays. And I started to think that my fate will be different.
Those signs hopefully will spur me to learn whatever I can and get off my butt and work harder to do what I have to, to out run that fate. Those signs from heaven reminded me that I have a good team up there looking out for me. They will take care of my family and me. They will help us.
These signs gave me hope. These signs helped me realize I do not want to go down without giving myself the best possible chances. So I need to take better care of myself. I think that means more changes and better will power, but there is a damn good reason for me to make those things happen. That isn’t the future I want for my kids and I definitely want to know my grandchildren.
Morbid post I know, but I write here for me to release those things that roll around in my brain. To work through my fears so that I can face them and deal with them. That’s all. I just need to come here to let it all out.
Thanks for reading if you got this far and don’t worry about me; just venting a fear that wraps hold of my heart from time to time. Today heaven sent me lots of signs to let me know my prayers are heard and that I am loved and cared for. My angels were there to let me know not to worry and to just live.
So I had one of those Oprah “Ah-ha” moments today. I think it took a bunch of little things running together to help this “ah-ha” moment smack me in the brain and reach my stream of consciousness, but that is how these things work.
The beginning is always the best place to start. It all started in late December. Probably a bit in part to the hangover the holidays create. That is when I started to feel bogged down. There was a cough and wheezing that just hung on to my lungs with a white knuckled grip and just trying to take a walk up the stairs with a laundry basket had become tedious by late January. I went to the doctor, but after five days of antibiotics things weren’t kicking back into gear energy wise.
I could not for the life of me figure out what the heck was so draining. It was as if my gas tank was always on empty. I literally wanted to Netflix all day. Yes, Netflix is now a verb. A beautifully wonderful verb. It baffled me how this could be, but even sitting I wasn’t at rest. I was constantly berating myself for just sitting. I didn’t ever fully rest and relax.
The good news was that for the first time in as far as I could remember I was the most comfortable in my own skin. Best. Feeling. Ever. Don’t get me wrong, we all have days, but I feel like I am pretty darn awesome. It was a little boggling to me how I could feel so good and comfortable yet so tired and deflated at the same time.
This past Saturday, I finally had to be hit over the head with what I should have known all along, but that is what happens sometimes we have to be smacked upside the head to realize what is right in front of us.
Saturday morning has become one of my favorite mornings. My youngest son is playing in a basketball league that was created by several faith communities in our town. It is the single best league that I have ever been a part of in my life. They pray with the kids before the games and have a half time devotional.
On this particular Saturday, my favorite referee read the devotional. Listening intently as always, since these Saturday morning devotionals had become such a source of light in my life, he reads, “One cannot burn out if they weren’t on fire in the first place.”
Can I get an AMEN?
Enter “ah-ha” moment. These words stirred in me just the slightest mental shift. They shook me awake.
Holy, holy. I am on fire! We all are. We burn with divine light. Of course we feel burned out from time to time. Wouldn’t any fire feel that way? Wouldn’t any light get so hot that it would need to be dark just for a short while?
God doesn’t need me to rush and rush and rush without stopping ever. Life is meant to be enjoyed number one and number two God rested! On the seventh day he rested. The end. He didn’t go on and on about how he should add a little something extra to the world or show off by creating another Universe. Nope. He just rested. So why can’t I just rest? Do nothing all day and feel productive. Yes! If I am feeling the need to rest then I need it. Rest is being productive. Rest is the self-care we need to keep our flame burning.
I started to examine these periods of rest in my life. The times I always just thought there was something off about me because I would just want to crawl in bed for days and do nothing.
The first time this happened I came out of it and started my blog. I started writing again and choosing vulnerability and connection over perfection.
The second time this happened I came out of the rest ready to share my gift and start a business.
The last time this happened I came out of rest with a strong sense of self-worth and a peace my soul hadn’t known for years.
So what is this “ah-ha”moment that hit me – when we rest we rise. When we rest we can burn again. Our fire is ignited brighter and wiser than before.
I finally truly understand the saying when she wakes she will move mountains. Each time I wake from rest my life is stronger and richer. This time will be no different.
Rest my friends because when you rise you will move mountains.
It’s those words that almost ended one of my most important friendships. Those words split my soul. I didn’t think I was needy. I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. Low self-confidence – yes. I have that. I get that. But I never saw myself as draining or needy. And I never expected to hear that from someone I thought cared about me.
Funny, I haven’t been able to escape those words for over a decade. They hit a chord, deep in my soul.
It is probably true that I seek external validation of my worth. But I am human. And I like to hear that I am good at what I do or that I am loved and appreciated. I guess some people don’t need that to thrive, but it sure helps me be the best me. Those words don’t bother me so much anymore. It is just a part of my human-ness and it is okay to want to hear how other people feel about you. To know that what you are doing makes an impact or that you are an important person in someone’s life. To know you are wanted. That is okay and it doesn’t make you needy; it makes you human.
I also find it a bit ironic that I would get into a career as a medium where people seek validation. A career where you cannot validate its authenticity with tangible proof.
Being released from those words just recently happened. This past weekend I attended the James Van Praagh workshop. At this workshop, he asked us to do a mediumship exercise where we did a reading for ourselves and ask for messages from spirit that we need to hear.
I don’t often ask for messages for myself. I ask to see glimpses of my own loved ones to know they are okay. To feel them around me. Same things everyone else asks, but I don’t ever sit down and try to do an actual reading for myself like I would for a client and this is exactly what James asked us to do.
After lunch I headed outside and said guide me to the spot where I need to be. I kid you not I walked directly to this tree that had a statue of St. Francis of Assisi who is the patron saint of animals. This is my papa’s saint. It is also the prayer that I have been repeating most often. In fact, I had read it three times that morning before attending the retreat and had read it each morning prior to that.
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Landing at this spot was no accident. I sat down and found a quiet centered place in my mind and heart and asked for a message from spirit.
The first thing that I saw was an elephant. She was beautiful. She walked toward me and extended her trunk. Her rich brown eyes were deep. I could see each wrinkle in her trunk and could feel her warm breath. Immediately I heard a voice that echoed my own heartbeat. “You are exactly where you need to be.”
A peaceful calm washed over my whole soul.
Then she evaporated and behind her were all four of my grandparents. Each in pairs holding hands, smiling and waving. My papa stepped forward and said, “We all love you and we are all with you.”
My heart nearly exploded. Often I wonder if they are proud of me. I wonder what they think of me sharing my mediumship with others. What they think of me as a parent, friend, daughter, wife, human. In that moment, when I heard his words, my heart nearly exploded because their love washed over me. Completely unconditional. They were so happy and so glad to see me.
I share this experience because I think we all need love and validation. I think each of us needs these things to grow and become the best versions of ourselves. You don’t need to be ashamed of wanting these things or asking for them. You don’t need to wait for someone to tell you to do something nice for yourself; you should just be doing it because you deserve time, attention, and affection as well.
There are many people who do this naturally, but one thing I have learned about parenting and motherhood is often we as parents have to put ourselves last to insure that the needs of those we love are met and accounted for. It is important for us to remember to take a day or an hour or ten minutes and do something that helps remind us that we are loved and nourish ourselves so that we can move forward.
You are not needy if you do this. You are human. You are worth it.