How Do You Handle Life’s “Holy Shit!” Moments?

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how people handle moments in life that you don’t expect; the ones that sneak up from behind and whack you over the head with a two-by-four. Or moments that you see coming, fiercely denying their eventual arrival.

I’ve had a handful of those moments; some I knew would hit me one day, and I totally dreaded them, and some I never saw coming.

How were they handled? Well, when I was young, I basically took a back seat and let life drive right over me, squashing me along the way.

I see some adults handle things this way, taking a victim stance. Giving up any and every bit of power they have, believing they have no option other than to roll over and let life do to them.

These days, I’m in the driver’s seat. Sure, I might have a few days of panic and freak-out, but I have a new trust in the Universe. A trust that I can find answers and solutions, and that things will eventually work out. Where does this trust come from? It came from learning to trust my intuition.

We all have it, intuition, but just what is it?

It’s the connection to information that is beyond your five senses. It’s when you allow your spirit guides, guardian angels, and other protective and guiding beings in spirit, and God communicate to you. Well, truth be told, they communicate with us all the time, but we often don’t listen or trust what we get.

How do you recognize intuition?

It’s that gut feeling. It’s the synchronistic events in your life. It’s the impulse to take a different route home, that ends up keeping you safe. It’s the whisper in the back of your head that tells you to go right, when logic tells you to go left. It’s the messages you get from your heart.

As well as trusting my intuition, I trust that when I need information, it will come to me (or I’ll find it). Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.

As I’ve asked, answers have come. And I ask a lot of questions. As I’ve looked for guidance, it has arrived. Information comes to me. I sift through what comes, and use a combination of my rational and reasoning mind, with my feeling heart, to see what’s right for me.

And finally, I trust in grace. For me, grace is taking a step back so that the highest good can drop in. It’s about knowing that I’m not ultimately in control. Sure, I’m a very powerful being, but there is only so much I can control, and only so much I should control. I am, however, still working on having patience for grace to show up sometimes; but we’re all a work in progress, aren’t we?

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My Guardian Angel

Last month I spent several weeks away from home, visiting with a dear friend. One of the special things about my friend is that she and I have been sisters in several lifetimes. During a past life regression hypnosis session, I saw part of one of those lifetimes. We share a connection that transcends this lifetime, as soul sisters.

Another special thing about my friend is that she was born with a defect of sorts. The veil that prevents most people from being able to see energy and allows people to live in the 3D world, unable to see beyond it to the world of spirit, didn’t fall for her as she was born. She remains connected to spirit, able to see and hear beings and entities that most people can’t. When she looks at a person, she sees their spirit, their soul energy. She can hear, see, and feel energy and spirit.

One evening, when we were sitting, chatting, she turned to me and mentioned that she had seen a dead person following me around lately, and she wondered who it was. As far as I know, I have never seen spirits or dead people (except for capturing them with a camera), and I told her I had no idea who it was, and asked her to describe them.

She tuned into a boy and asked me if I had lost a friend when I was young. I thought for a minute, and the only person I could think of who died when I was young, was a classmate when I was in eighth grade.

During the Storm of ’78 in New England, the Boston area had a record snowfall of over 27″ in two days of early February. We missed a week of school, and I remember sledding down our street and cross-country skiing uptown to the little grocery store, bringing home bags of groceries in a red plastic sled. I also remember the towering snow banks that were created as the streets were finally plowed.

The story I was told was that my classmate was standing on a snow bank and slipped off into the path of an oncoming car. Danny was run over and died two days later. We all went to his viewing, and it was the first time I’d ever seen someone who was dead.

What I didn’t know was that on a spiritual level, I witnessed his death. No, I didn’t see him die with my eyes, but my spirit acknowledged his death. In doing this, he became a guardian angel for me, keeping me safe from people who wanted to harm me, with whom I did not have a soul contract. Apparently, Danny’s and my soul made an agreement for this before we both were born.

As we tried to figure out times that Danny had helped me, my girlfriend tuned into a time when I had been working on a ship. She asked me if I’d ever had a guy interested in me. When you’re either the only civilian female on a ship, or nearly the only civilian female on a ship, there is a likelihood of someone being interested. I racked my brain, and couldn’t narrow things down.

I asked my girlfriend if it was on a ship in the Mediterranean, or elsewhere in the world. Other than being on my school ship, I was only on one ship in the Mediterranean, so this could narrow things down considerably. Yes. She saw that the ship was in the Med. Then she asked me if there was someone who was interested in me who was weird. I racked my brain a bit more and then it hit me. Yes!

When I was a cadet on a ship that worked in the Mediterranean, there was a guy who worked in the Steward Department who had a thing for me. I was cordial to him, but never led him on, as he was most definitely not my type, and I wasn’t even looking for companionship at that point in my life. I was doing an internship to earn sea days. All I wanted was to do my time, work on my project for school, and get home.

For some reason, when I was given my room assignment on the ship (a private room, with a private bathroom – officer’s quarters), I was not given a room key. Because of my ignorance and a lack of organization on the ship’s part, I didn’t know I should have been given one, so my room was never locked.

One night, I didn’t make it back to my room, and when I went in the next morning, I could see that someone had been in my bed, and it wasn’t me. Apparently, Danny intervened, keeping me out of my room that night. Keeping me safe.

My girlfriend told me that yes, the weird guy was in my room, and there was a strong likelihood that he would have harmed me. I told my watch officer about the weird guy, and that I thought he’d been in my bed. My watch officer spoke with the head of the Steward Department, and the next thing I knew, the weird guy literally turned and ran away from me any time he saw me. Apparently, whatever he was told, sufficiently scared him and kept him away from me for the rest of my 2 months on that ship. And I finally got a room key.

One other time I could think of, when someone intervened to keep me safe was when my ship was tied up in downtown Seattle. I recounted the story to my girlfriend and she saw that yes, once again, Danny had been looking out for me.

I was about to be relieved of duty from my ship, after more than six months on it (with no days off!). So my last night on board, I joined a group of shipmates who walked to a waterfront establishment to celebrate a birthday. We were all drinking and partying it up. Eventually, I realized that I’d had more than enough to drink, and it would be prudent for me to get back to the ship and get to bed. As I walked alone, back towards the cruise ship docks and my ship, all of a sudden a police car pulled up right beside me, stopping quickly.

A Seattle police officer jumped out of his cruiser, apologizing for startling me. He then pointed to a man about fifteen feet away, saying that he’d seen the guy looking at me and walking towards me, and was concerned for my safety. The officer had driven his cruiser between the man and me. I was completely oblivious and quite stunned (and very grateful). The officer offered me a ride back to my ship (when I explained that I was walking back to my ship), which I stupidly declined. Yes, I was stupid drunk. I was embarrassed at being drunk and didn’t want to show up to the gangway in a police car.

Fortunately, Danny kept me safe then and on the rest of the walk back to the ship. Yes, spirit can orchestrate enlisting people to help when they need it.

Now that I’m an old married woman, Danny’s duties around keeping me safe in situations like these aren’t really needed any longer. But my friend said he comes now and then to send me love.

We each have at least one guardian angel who is indeed an angel, who has never incarnated as human, and who stays us during our lives. But this was the first time I’d been aware of my having a guardian who helps look out for me with more “human” endeavors. Having recently experienced life as human, these special guardians can relate to us, and help us out, especially if we make less than stellar decisions that might get us into trouble.

Thank you Danny for looking out for me and for loving me.




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I Am A Privileged White Woman

With all of the killing going on lately in the US, and abroad, I realize that I am a privileged white woman. Despite the fact that I experienced abuse by my family growing up, my heritage is from the UK and Europe, and my skin is the color of privilege in my country.

I did not grow up poor. We lived in a middle class neighborhood with single family houses on almost an acre apiece. The public school system I attended was very highly rated. And we went on vacations every summer. Playing in my neighborhood as a child, I felt generally safe.

The very few times I’ve been pulled over by police, I haven’t worried about my personal safety. When I walk around in stores that sell expensive items, I don’t feel eyes following me, or worry about being profiled as a shoplifter. I don’t worry about people being afraid of me because of the clothes I wear.

When people see me in public, I tend to be pretty much invisible because I look very generic, dressed in my mom-jeans and colored t-shirts, with my uncolored gray hair usually pulled back into a pony tail. My middle aged appearance and uncovered head does not inspire fear.

I am a privileged white woman.

Was I bullied as a kid? Yes. Have I ever been homeless? Yes. Have I experienced sexism? Sure. Have I experienced racism? Yes. But is that my every day normal? No. Is it what I focus on or expect to experience day-to-day? No.

Do I worry when I walk down the street that someone might be gunning for me? No.

I can only imagine what it’s like to be a young, non-white man living in the inner city in this country. From my few experiences of being looked down on and being dismissed because of the color of my skin and my sex, I can only imagine what it’s like to be judged solely on how I look, what I wear, or how I walk, every single day. What does it do to a person’s psyche when they are constantly judged wrongly? What does it do to a person when they are constantly living on the defense? When they are not seen as the true person that they are inside? (I ask these questions for any group who is misperceived).

With everything that’s been going on lately, what’s a person to do when the country around them is exploding in hate and divisiveness? Will it help if I feel badly for everyone who is suffering? Will it help if I get down into the muck and mire, or climb up on a cross? Will it help to focus on the hurt, pain, and death?

One thing I know for sure is that rising up in protest is NOT the answer. Rising up against anything is NOT the answer.

What will make a difference is to remember our common unity (community): our shared humanity. We all hurt and we all bleed red.  But more than anything, we each want to be seen and heard for who we are. We all want to matter. We need heart-felt connection. We need to rise up, arm in arm in solidarity and remember our humanity.

As individuals, we each want to have good lives. Those of us with families want our children to grow up to be helpful, productive members of society. At least most of us. I don’t personally know anyone who doesn’t want their children to have a life as least as good as, if not better than their own.

Obviously there are a few select groups that live to destabilize our society. They want nothing more than to see us all live in fear. Fear of death. Fear of losing our loved ones. Fearing for our safety and security. They want us to strike out at each other. They want our economy and society to be as unstable and disconnected as their hearts are.

I, for one, am not going to let that happen. At least not in my life.

From the 30,000 ft. view, I see all of this instability as a huge opportunity for people to make a decision: will you choose to live in anger and fear, or will you make decisions through your heart? This is going on throughout the entire planet. Eons of energies that have been trapped in Mother Earth are rising up, being acted out by individuals and groups, so that we have an opportunity to transmute them with love. It’s as complicated and as simple as that. As within, so without. As above, so below.

I have been doing this work on an individual level for the past few years, and now it’s the collective’s turn to follow suit.

It’s time for everyone to remember that we all spring forth from the same singular energy. It is this energy that beats each of our hearts. It’s this energy that creates miracles. It’s with this energy that we create our lives, each one a miracle. As much as we feel separate and different from each other, at our core we are unified. We are individual facets, unique expressions of the One.

In case you don’t fully understand, we are more than symbolically One. If the left side of your brain shuts down, you will be able to perceive this Oneness, where you literally won’t be able to see where you end and a wall begins. It’s only through our having a left brain that we perceive ourselves as separate from each other, when in fact, we are not.

I call this singular energy of creation, love. That word doesn’t do the feeling justice, but it’s the closest I have. I tell you about the power of love, not because it’s some fluffy, woo woo, New Age, trite, au courant thing to say, but because this is part of my truth. I have seen the energy of love in action in my own life. I know the incredible power we all hold in our hearts. Love is the one energy that can transmute hate, fear, anger, sadness, judgment, apathy, and disease. It heals like no other energy I know.

It’s time for everyone to remember the awesome power you each have.

When a tragedy happens and your heart breaks, cry. Wail. Let the sadness flow through. And when you can, get back up on your horse and ride. Open your heart again and let compassion rain down on the world. It’s critical to crank that heart open again. It’s actually designed to break and then open. Break again, and then open again. Our hearts are like parachutes: they function best when open.

A metaphysical fact to help you get through our recent tough times: people make soul agreements before they incarnate into physical bodies. They make plans with other souls. And sometimes these plans include becoming victims of murder and terrorist bombings. Other times these plans include being murders or terrorists. These are not random acts.

Something else to keep in mind is that mass media focuses only on a very tiny slice of what’s going on in the world and in our country. And the more sensational the story, the more inflammatory, divisive, and outrageous the reporting, the more attention and thus money, the media outlet will get. Do not fall for the idea that violence is random, is commonplace, and is going happen to you.

I am a not only a privileged white woman, but I’m a woman who has been on the planet for over five decades, and has experienced more than her fair share of shit raining down on her. I could very easily decide to sit in the victim chair, be a martyr, and demand that the world feel sorry for me. But I had help in remembering the extraordinary and powerful being that I am. And I ask each of you to do the same. Remember that you each hold a very special and life changing super power in your heart: LOVE.

Keep your hearts open and use them.

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What Is Faith?

I was inspired to write this because of a comment that Eli, Coach Daddy, wrote to me about how crucial it is to have faith.

Just what is faith?

Faith is believing that even when life looks very bleak and hard, and it’s doing its best to squash me, things will work out.

Faith is believing that when things fall apart, it’s because something better wants to come into my life, and room has to be made for it.

have faith break eggs

Faith is believing that pain is temporary. It won’t last forever.

Faith is believing that emotions like anger, fear, and sadness are temporary. They too, shall pass.

Faith is believing that I can change my situation if I want to.

Faith is believing that I am not a victim of circumstances or of life.

Faith is believing that I can handle whatever comes along.

Faith is holding a vision with extreme conviction until it manifests.

Faith is believing that even in death, we continue on.

The difference between faith and what I call knowing, is having an experience that rings in all of my cells. I might believe something with all of my heart, but not know for certain that it’s true. But after having certain experiences, I know some things are true (for me).

I know that life is often a paradox.

I know that chronic, incurable disease can be healed.

I know that all physical pain can disappear in a moment.

I know what it’s like to connect with my higher self.

I know that I planned to experience certain challenges in my life.

I know that I’ve had several lives before this one (at least, to my brain they appear to be prior in time).

I know what it’s like to connect directly with God.

I know that my essence is the energy of light.

And I know that my essence is pure, unconditional, nonjudgmental, love.

In the absence of knowing, ya gotta have faith. It sure makes life easier to swallow sometimes.


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Happy Independence Day

Here in the US, we are celebrating our independence today. Here are a few fireworks shots I captured about a week ago when I was still on vacation.


Here is one more for your enjoyment.


I hope those who are celebrating today have a safe and happy holiday.

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Choose Love

A person I know asked me yesterday what I thought of the recent shooting in Orlando. Although I answered him in one sentence, there was so much more to say, so here it is.

Remembering My Divinity

I haven’t posted in a while because I’m away from home. I’ve travelled with my son to spend time with a dear friend and also to have a handful of healing sessions (both my son and I) with a gifted healer in this area. As it turns out, I’m about an hour outside of Orlando, where 2 days ago a horrific shooting happened.

After the healing session I had yesterday, the healer mentioned the recent shooting to me and asked me what I thought about it.

When I hear about mass tragedies, my mind jumps around to many levels of seeing what happened and why. I inevitably initially think of the perpetrator: what made them do such a heinous act? Maybe they are mentally ill and didn’t get the help they need because our mental health care system is so broken. Plus, we don’t understand mental health and so easily damage certain people.

Maybe they…

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Sunset At The Overlook

Several days ago, Little Man and I headed out to a local view spot, Samish Overlook. My dude had been practicing flying a camera equipped drone that he recently got, and was jonesing to fly it at the overlook. The day had been very cloudy, like the previous ones, so I wasn’t expecting to be able to see the sky when we got there. I anticipated a thick blanket of clouds, but was met with a pleasant surprise. Sky was peaking through.

We arrived about an hour before sunset and enjoyed the views of farmland and ocean dotted with islands. The predominant wild flower, foxglove stood tall, proudly showing off its deep pink blossoms.

As the sun dipped, its golden reflection on the water was irresistible.


Little Man was concentrating on flying, as I snapped away, at one point requesting he turn slightly; only to be met with, “Not now Mom! I’m flying!”

The sun finally dipped just below the cloud cover, bathing us with its final rays before hiding below the horizon for the night.


What an unexpectedly beautiful end to the day.

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Just Breathe

copyright mariner2mother

copyright mariner2mother

How to get through it all?

Just breathe.

I don’t know if I can do it.

Just breathe.

I don’t know if I can make it.

Just breathe.

The sadness won’t stop.

The anger won’t stop.

The frustration won’t stop.

The fear won’t stop.

It’s all never-ending.

Keep breathing.

Why? Why should I?

Who cares anyway?

God cares.

Even when you think no one gives a fuck.

God cares.

I’m so tired of being strong.

So tired of trying.

I just want to lay down and be done.

Can I be done now?


So tired. So done.

Just breathe.


Some days just plain get hard. Thankfully they are the minority. But when the weight of the world gets too heavy, writing helps to lighten the load. Feeling lighter already.


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Rolling Over and Standing Up.

How many times have you been in a situation where you got a call, text or a letter and were blindsided by someone and couldn’t think of the perfect response until later when you had calmed down and were able to re-engage the brain? In the moment, you recoiled or just stood there dumbfounded, not knowing how to respond to their putting you in a corner. How many times have you left an encounter or hung up the phone, only to have the perfect retort come to you five minutes later?

Well, growing up as a girl when I did, where I did, in the culture I did, and with a mother who could cut me down with a single lash of her tongue, I did not have permission to speak out or to speak up for myself in any way. During the 60’s and early 70’s, it wasn’t nice to say this or be assertive. No one will want to marry you. You must be “nice.” To this day, I hate the word nice because of the connotations I associate with it.

Because of this, when in a confrontational situation, my go-to reaction is often to become a doormat. I’m still working on it.

A few days ago, I had one of these encounters; not in person, but through e-mail. At the time, after I sent a lame response, I got mad. No. I got pissed. Pissed that I just rolled over. Pissed that the person I was corresponding with didn’t see the world the way I do. Pissed because I want this person to “get it” the way I do, and they don’t. And pissed because I thought I knew this person better than I really do. Bit by bit, they are showing their true colors to me, and they are disappointing. Very disappointing.

So, how did I handle it after I rolled over and played dead? I crafted several carefully worded replies in my head and never deliver them. Well, at least not yet. I will at some point, when I reach the point in our relationship when it doesn’t matter if they get mad and choose to never have anything to do with me again (because that is very likely to happen). For now, with this one person, I still need them in my life.

Sitting and thinking about the whole situation, even though I’m not pleased with how I still tend to roll over instead of standing up for myself in some situations (not all situations!), one thing I gleaned is my ability to think in multiple levels about something, virtually at the same time. My brain is fast! That’s one of the things about this person that I got wrong. They don’t and likely can’t do this. I can look at something from ten different angles, inside out, upside down, and sideways in a matter of nanoseconds. Another thing I am seeing very clearly is my assumptions about this individual. I thought that because they are extremely talented in one area of their life, it would extend to other areas. It doesn’t. My 13-year-old son is more capable in a lot of ways than this adult.

And my big disappointment is really two-fold. One: that I misjudged this person. And two: that I’m not standing up for myself… at least not yet. It will happen in due time.

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Remembering My Divinity

Three years ago, my parents had both died, the family house was emptied and sold, and my older brother was in the throes of executing both of our parents’ wills.

With everything that had gone on during 2012, the year from hell, I took this opportunity to really start digging in and work on healing the little girl inside of me. She had a very rough road during a lot of the first 16 or so years of her life.

By this point I had just discovered a hypnotherapist who helped me make big progress in my personal life. She was the perfect fit for me, with her backgrounds in counseling, hypnosis, and spirituality, guiding me through sessions where I reclaimed bits of my spirit and started to heal childhood wounds. Instead of spending months talking about an issue, trying to figure it out, using hypnosis we got out the bulldozer and trenched directly to the truth; creating massive amounts of healing in a short amount of time.

As I began to reclaim pieces of myself, I was able to see scenes from my young life that I had blocked out from my conscious mind. Scenes where my mother and brother treated me badly. Very badly. And it started very young. The more I opened up and healed, the more things were able to bubble up, screaming out to be healed as well.

One of the emotions that was buried very deep was anger. Mega-tons of it. And fear. As the anger in particular was given an opportunity to come up, I needed a safe place to process it and to vent. Because writing is one of my most effective ways to process, I created an anonymous blog. I was able to rant and rave there and be a victim of abuse, and identify with other victims.

In the past three years, because of the progress I’ve made in healing, the majority of my being no longer identifies with “victim.” Yes, I identify with having been wounded and having experienced certain traumas in my life, but most of the time I don’t feel like a victim. Because of this shift, I decided to stop writing in my anonymous blog and create a sister blog to this one.

from manure beautiful flowers grow

Remembering My Divinity is a place where I write about the darker and more difficult things in my life and how I am finding my way out of the darkness into the light. It has a spiritual perspective because that’s the lens through which my healing is happening, and my life is now lived. My entire healing path has been one that has been leading me to remember the Divine spirit that I am at my core.

It is showing me that I am not my role as former merchant mariner, wife, mother, sister, or friend. I am not society’s judgment of me. I am not this female, middle-aged body. I am a curious eternal spirit that inhabits and has a partnership with this body, who performs roles and talks and walks through life looking and acting as I do. Through healing, I’ve learned that my life and the abuse I suffered was and is absolutely not random. And I am learning how and why I create this experience that is my life.

My healing path is reconnecting me to my direct connection to God, which is also known as intuition, giving me additional tools to navigate the world in another way, using things like clairvoyance, clairsentience, claircognizance, and more.

As frank and honest as I write in general, Remembering My Divinity goes deeper into the realm of real and at times uncomfortable and controversial, that I’d rather keep separate from this blog. As the new blog is just that, new, there are only a handful of posts so far; and I invite you to pop over and check it out.

Meanwhile, over here I’ll still be writing about life as mom to a very special boy, our new adventures into de-schooling and homeschooling, sharing my photography, and sharing a bit about energy healing as I continue that work.

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